


Adventures in Time and Space

by IsThereARealLife



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (not descriptive just the after-effects), Angst, Canon Divergence, Canon Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Charlie Lives, Charlie Ships It, Dean's self worth issues, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt Dean, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Nightmares, Oops, PTSD, PTSD Cas, Panic Attack, Pining, Post-Canon, Sam Ships It, Sharing a Bed, Slow Build, and, becase fuck buckleming, brief mentions of, hurt cas, i'll put a warning at the start of the chapter with the panic attack, like realllllllly slow build, there is no Darkness, this was meant to be 2k tops lmao look at it now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 06:03:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 25,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2840729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsThereARealLife/pseuds/IsThereARealLife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean is human, the Mark is gone, Cas has his grace back. Everyone's tired and the bunker is a good place to do nothing for a few days... Enter Sam&Charlie: The Dynamic Duo, tv marathons and a metric butt-ton of pining. How much can possibly go wrong? (A lot. The answer is a lot).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dammit_Jim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dammit_Jim/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea for this came up during a conversation with my friend Alex about space in Supernatural after Metatron said that one thing about a different planet in 10x02. It was meant to be a quick 1-2k thing. That was about 6000 words ago so i have no idea how long this thing is gonna be in the end...
> 
> EDIT 25/12/15: now complete, at over 25k. so that happened... :)

It’s done. Finally. You’re not a demon, the Mark is gone. Cas has the remnants of his own grace back. And you're all exhausted. You have plans to spend at least a few days in the bunker relaxing, not thinking about the monsters that are still out there. You wander into the library after clearing your room of all the old pie containers and plates you left there at some point or another.

“Hey, Cas?”

The angel starts and turns to face you, eyes wide. 

“Whoa, you okay buddy?”

“Yes. Sorry, Dean. I suppose old habits and all that…”

“Yeah, no worries, man. Hey, you hungry?”

Cas frowns. “We only ate breakfast an hour ago, Dean.”

“Yeah, but… what about second breakfast? Elevensies? Luncheon?”

“I understand you have an obsession with food. And also that that was a reference to a Lord of the Rings movie. But one hour, Dean. Is that not a little excessive, even for you?”

“O’course not. We’ve got the day… or week… off. Need to pass the time somehow.” Cas still stares at you sceptically, with that adorable head tilt thing—wait what? Adorable? Where did that come from? “We still have pie.”

“No, we don’t. You finished it all last night during our viewing of Doctor Who.” And oh yeah. That’s right. You will not admit, however, that you kept eating way past being full because you needed an excuse to keep a plate on your lap once Captain Jack Harkness arrived. But it was pie, so it shouldn’t have been conspicuous to the other two… It wasn’t, was it? Why is Cas giving you that bemused look? Does he know? He can’t know. This is bad. Really—

The angel interrupts your internal freak-out by saying, “Would you like me to get you some more pie, Dean? I could fly into town, if you wish.” Oh. Oh that’s it. That’s ok. Just pie. He’s just amused because you ate all the pie. It’s nothing. Ok. Shut up. Right.

Then you realise you’ve been staring weirdly for too long again, so you throw on a smirk and say, “Make it so, Number One.”

Cas’ eyes narrow. “Dean, just because Metatron gave me all the references, does not mean I understand them entirely or can interpret them out of context.”

And suddenly you feel irrationally relieved. Cas still doesn’t understand them. You can still teach Cas everything about pop culture. Metatron didn’t screw absolutely everything up. Just some things… most things. Which you don’t suppose either of you will ever get over, but hey. You’ve got a week off. And your best friend is here. And you get pie. And TV. So maybe things can be okay…

And there you go with the creepy silent staring again. “Uhm… right. Firstly, I just meant, yes, get the pie, man. And secondly—son of a—” The angel disappeared on you. Again. You shrug. Probably just went to get the pie. You smile to yourself and go into the previously empty, undiscovered room which you and Sam (mostly you) recently repurposed as an awesome TV room. Complete with squishy couches, huge flatscreen TV, surround sound and a massive book case for your admittedly small DVD collection. But it’s growing. Just yesterday you picked up the rest of Game of Thrones and all three extended versions of Lord of the Rings.

You move to the shelves to take out First Contact because hey, it’s a great movie. You can watch them all in order later. Cas just needs to see one with Picard and Riker so he gets the reference. You also make a mental note to grab a blanket or pillow or something for scenes with Riker. You want to pie to actually last a while this time ‘round.

The thing about growing up on the road with an ex-marine father is, you get really good at being tidy and being organised. And after 30 years of that life, it tends to carry over when you finally have a house. So when you can’t find the case you’re looking for, on the specially designated Star Trek shelf currently housing every Original Series plus Next Gen movie, and every season of the Next Gen TV series, except for First Contact, you know someone has been messing with your stuff.

“Sammy!” You shout as you storm down the hall to his room. “Sam!”

“What, Dean?! What is it?” Sam’s oversized frame stumbles into the hall carrying a shotgun and Ruby’s knife.

“What’d you do with my stuff?”

Sam rolls his eyes, lowering the weapons. “What stuff? I didn’t touch your stuff, Dean. You do this all the time but I never actually _do_ anything.”

“My movie, man. Where’d you put First Contact?” Sudden realisation lights up your brother’s face.

“Oh.”

“‘Oh’? Really? What the hell did you do?”

“Whoa, calm down, I didn’t break it or anything. I hadn’t seen that one so I brought it down here to watch on my laptop last night. Cas was making goo-goo eyes at you, and you were making goo-goo eyes at Jack Harkness, and then at Cas. I couldn’t take it anymore, dude. You didn’t even see me leave.”

You stumble over your next words because what? Your face is schooled to _perfection_. You don’t make _goo-goo_ eyes at anybody. Do you? “He wasn’t… I wasn’t…”

“Sure, Dean.” And you are subsequently subjected to ‘Bitch-face Number Three: stop freakin’ lying Dean, I can see right through it’. It comes up on the list after “1: So done with your stubborn ass, Dean, just listen already’ and ‘2: enough with the self-sacrificing shit Dean and focus’. While you continue to stubbornly deny everything, Sam retreats into his room, only to return moments later with the pristine box containing your quarry. “I didn’t scratch it or anything, I was careful. Also, the specified Star Trek shelf – you’re a little obsessive, you know.”

You pull a face and mutter, “You’re obsessive” because yes, you are that immature sometimes.

  


Back in the TV room, you put the disk in the player and duck into the kitchen to make some popcorn while it loads. Now the title sequence is playing and you’ve got a bowl of steaming buttery popcorn and your safety blanket and plates and forks for the pie but Cas still isn’t back yet. It shouldn’t take that long to get some pie, especially at this time of day on a Wednesday. But maybe there’s a hold up. So you wait.

It only takes another few minutes before you start to get agitated. What if something went wrong, what if his wings failed, or there was an angel waiting for him, or what if he… What if he just left again? Maybe he got tired of your references and pie and just sitting around. Maybe he doesn’t want to be here anymore and went back to heaven… He never actually said he was staying… Right at that moment, before you can spiral further into self-loathing for driving away your best friend, you hear that familiar, comforting rustle of wings.

“Finally! What took you so—” And that’s when you actually look at him again. Panting hard, plastic bag in a death-grip in his hand, and blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated :)
> 
> I'm on tumblr [here](http://www.ismylifejustfantasy.tumblr.com). Come say hi or something :)


	2. Chapter 2

Blood. On his face, his shirt, his hands. “Cas! What the hell happened, man?”

“I…” He sways a little where he stands, so you jump the back of the couch to catch him.

“Whoa, buddy! Here…” You lead him over to the arm chair, supporting most of his weight as you go. “What happened?”

He coughs harshly, leaving a new stain of blood on the side of his hand. “Demons. They were waiting. Outside the bakery. After I got the pie…”

“How did they even know you would be there?”

“Well, your love of pie is legendary, Dean. It was one of the more obvious places to trap you, I assume.”

You smile a little because even after fighting off demons he still manages to hit you with enough sass to rival Sam. “Alright… Alright, can you walk? We need to get you cleaned up.” He nods his head minutely, so you sling his arm around your shoulders and help him down the various halls to the bathroom.

“You okay to do this, man?” He nods again and starts to peel off his clothes, grimacing. Meanwhile, you go through the cabinets, collecting supplies and pointedly avoiding looking at Cas practically stripping behind you. “You wanna shower or just…” You turn back to him and stop. Not that you haven’t seen him even entirely naked before, like that one time with the bees, but seeing him standing there in only boxers you lose your train of thought.

But that’s when you notice the blood oozing from a nasty gash in his side, and the rest of his skin littered with bruises and other cuts. “Shit.” You go turn the shower on to its lowest setting. The one time the good pressure in the bunker is not helpful. “Alright, just keep it on low and wash all the crap off while I go stick all this—” you nudge the pile of bloody clothes “—in the laundry.”

He squints. “It’s not… I’m not covered in faecal matter, Dean, its—”

You roll your eyes. “Not literally, man.” Cas gives a small smile, like he knows and was just screwing with you. He steps back into the shower, finally looking away from you, freeing you. You collect the clothes and quickly make your way to the laundry. 

Only out in the hall do you let your shoulders sag. Why were there demons after them now? Crowley pissed off so why are they still here? How many of them must have been waiting if Cas ended up like that? Huh. You remember the first demon you and Sam took on together, just a minor thing wreaking havoc for the hell of it, and how big a deal you thought it was. No grand plans, just being an evil douche, as it should be. Now… when three or four not nearly so powerless sons of bitches show up at once you barely bat an eyelid.

You stop by the bathroom door to wait for Cas to finish showering, resting your head back against the wall. Shit, you miss those old days sometimes. It was simpler. Just find Dad, protect Sammy. None of this heaven and hell, angels and apocalypse bullshit. The pipes groan and shudder and then the rush of water cuts off, launching you back to the present. You smile a little because through all the crap, there’s still Cas. Without all that horror you would never have met, you would never have found one of the only good friends you ever had. Sure he’s lied and ditched you and died a few times but… You still miss him every time he goes. You have for years. Which is weird because he never used to hang around for more than a few hours or days at a time. He still became so important to you. He became your family as so few have. You hate seeing him hurt like this.

Right then, a tentative “Dean?” came through the door. You jump then look around to check Sam didn’t see you, before going back into the bathroom. Cas is standing there in his boxers still, but with one of your fluffy green towels around his shoulders and hair plastered to his forehead. He is also wearing a shadow of a smile that you don’t understand.

You lead him over to one of the benches at the side of the room so he can sit while you patch him up. It’s weird though. Most of the injuries are still bleeding. Cas’ mojo should’ve started healing everything by now, shouldn’t it? When you ask him as much, he shakes his head. “I am not yet back at full power, Dean. I may never be. I expended most of my reserves on flying home.”

“We could’ve driven, man,” you say as you direct Cas on where to hold his arm so you can stitch up the gash in his side.

“But then you—” He grunts as the needle pierces his skin. “You would have also been in danger. I dealt with them fine.”

“Yeah, well, you almost passed out on my couch and now you’re bleeding all over my bathroom. Great job of ‘dealing fine’ there.”

Cas’ expression falls to one of hurt. Shit. “Dean, I…”

You cut him off. “No, don’t apologise Cas, I’m sorry man. I just…” and stop right there. No need for the touchy feely crap to be out in the open.

“You don’t like seeing me hurt…?” And he said it anyway. But how did…? Oh no. Oh… and your brain makes an unfortunate connection. 

“You can… Your angel radio is back up isn’t it?”

Cas smiles and nods. “Not long, and I tuned it out for the most part, but I still hear some things… You and Sam, you’re my family too, Dean. At least as much as my angelic brothers and sisters.” You smile shyly and try to hide your blush by focusing on tying off the bandage, then putting disinfectant on all the cuts. You turn back to him after snatching some painkillers off the basin to find his head has drooped, eyes closed, almost asleep.

“Hey, Cas…” He jolts awake, grimacing when the stitches pull. “Not here, buddy. Let’s go back to the TV room.” He nods and stands, swaying sightly but remaining upright by himself. He slowly makes his way back out and up the stairs, you following close behind to make sure he stays up.

Back in the other room, the Star Trek theme is still blaring and the smell of popcorn has taken over the room. Gingerly, Cas sits down and makes himself comfortable on the couch while you go microwave the pie. Gooey apple pie. Mmm…

 

Cas has settled back into the chair and seems more awake. He even snagged himself a handful of popcorn, which he attempts to hide guiltily when you sit down next to him.

“You good to watch?” He nods so you grab the remote.

Two hours later you’re grinning stupidly because Cochrane made it up to warp speed and the Vulcans came and the Borg was defeated. You look over to see Cas’ reaction and see the other man sunk into the corner, eyes half closed but a small smile on his face. “You awake there, man? You coulda said something…”

“No, I am here Dean, I enjoyed that very much. Especially the arc with Cochrane… How he thought so little of himself but accomplished so much. He… he changed the world when it was lost. And he went to the stars, Dean. It’s… incredible. Reminds me of—”

“Alright, alright, you don’t need to go all chick flick on it man.”

He huffs. “Dean…”

“No, Cas. Look…” You cut him off. “I know you're just… tryna help but… I can’t. Not yet.”

He stares at you intently, with that not quite confused, more like searching, look, then nods. “Okay, Dean.” 

There’s a tense silence, as though you're both waiting for the other to say something else, but eventually you just say, “So, you tired or wanna watch something else?”

“I am feeling awake now. We can watch more if you would like.”

You grin. “Awesome. A New Hope it is.” You stand and realise how thirsty you are. Looking back at Cas, you ask, “Can you put it on? I’m gonna grab a drink. Beer?” He accepts.

It’s another five minutes, as you return from the kitchen with sandwiches and beer in hand, before you hear the main title theme start blaring from the speakers. Cas is standing right up close to the TV with the remote, attempting to lower the volume with vicious impatience. When he turns, the fury on his face makes him look about ready to smite anything that so much as looks at him wrong. Cautiously, you enter and ask him what the hell happened.

“The DVD player is infuriatingly uncooperative.” You huff a laugh but quickly stop and school your features into understanding when he glares at you.

“It’s ah… you just gotta be patient, I guess.” He glares some more but settles back in his spot on the couch. 

He does that cute (…what?) eyebrow furrow and squinty eye thing when he sees the food. “More food? Really, Dean?” You shrug and pass over the beer and sandwich, and then fail at trying to hide your proud little smile when he grins. His is peanut butter and jelly.

Sometime during the movie Cas tries to lie down on the sofa but there’s only so much a 6 foot angel can curl up. You end up with his feet on your lap and once the credits roll he is snoring softly. You chuckle and carefully extricate yourself. He shifts a little and grips the pillow tighter but otherwise sleeps peacefully on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the kudos guys :)
> 
> i'd love to know what y'all think
> 
> im on tumblr [here](http://www.ismylifejustfantasy.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

A few hours later Cas shuffles into the library where somehow Sam managed to wrangle you into cataloguing every book in the place while he transcribed them. Menial as it is, you are pretty sure you got the better job.

“Dean… why didn’t you wake me? I missed the end of the movie.”

“Well, why didn’t you tell me you were tired and wanted to sleep? Bed’s a damn sight more comfortable than that little sofa,” you shoot back.

Cas looks down at his feet. “You wanted to watch another movie, you were quite excited about it. I didn’t want to ruin that. I wanted to watch it as well…”

“Alright, alright. It’s ok, man. We can finish it later.”

“But you just watched—”

“I have seen that movie about a dozen times, Cas. I am perfectly okay with watching it again tonight.” He smiles then and nods. “Hell, half the reason I want to watch them is so you can see them and—”

Suddenly Sam stands up and coughs, saying “Time for me to go. You guys… ah… ”

You sit up like you got an electric shock. “What? I thought this was an important job. Why are you leaving before you're even done that book?”

He just keeps walking to the hall. “I’ve ah… got a thing.” He gestures vaguely. “I just remembered I need to…” Now he’s behind Cas and smirks at you, then, horror of all horrors.

You hear him start singing quietly. “I’ll just wait here then… That’s what I’ll do…” Evil little gigantor brother.

“You shut the hell up!” You shout. “Get out and shut up!” Your traitorous eyes can’t help but glance at Cas while Sam cackles his way out of the room. Meanwhile Cas just looks at you confused. Oh god. Now you gotta explain what the hell that was. No. Nothing. It was nothing. Obviously. Except for the whole shouting bloody murder at your brother. Yes. Totally nothing. Shit. Maybe he won’t—

“Dean, what was that about?” Of fucking course.

You sigh. “Nothing, Cas. Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He frowns though and you know you can’t just leave it there. “Uhhh. He was just. He was singing a song from the Supernatural musical. There’s implications…”

“There was a musical? I was unaware of this. Chuck disappeared. When did he write a musical?”

“No, no. Not Chuck’s. Some girls at a school made one based on the books and… extrapolated… They implied… things. Sam doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Oh.” He nods in understanding before turning serious again. “What did they imply?”

“It really doesn’t matter, man. Cos it isn’t true. It’s not… Sam just likes to piss me off.”

“I see. Perhaps you should stop reacting so vehemently then. If he does not achieve the desired reaction he may stop provoking you. If the accusations are in fact false, wouldn’t that reaction only support his views?”

Damn angel being logical. Dammit. You huff and grudgingly agree.

 

Typing all these title and authors and Sam’s summaries is boring as shit. Why did he make you do this? It’ll be helpful, he said. Faster to find the information, he said. Well stuff that. Your brain will turn to mush and drip out your ears before you finish all this. Cas is sitting across from you, apparently wide awake again, reading an ancient copy of Lord of the Rings he found on a shelf. Sam mused about its origins and purpose for being in the library one night during his first perusal of the books. You’d let him ramble for a while. It was a little amusing but also a little hurtful that he never considered before you said so that the book was actually your own. At least he didn’t comment on your reading abilities though. He must have finally realised that you can actually read novels and do enjoy it. Slaughterhouse 5 was the last book you read for English before giving up on school, but you remembered enjoying it later and once Sam and Dad both ditched, you actually sought out more to read. That’s when you came across The Odyssey too. You found that version of Lord of the Rings in a second hand bookstore when you and Sam were meant to be interviewing the owner about a possible ghost. It’s a hard cover, has maps and everything. It’s pretty old. Old enough that the Men of Letters actually could’ve left it there themselves. It, and your dog-eared Hurleyville High Library copy of Slaughterhouse 5, were two of the only personal things you let yourself keep. 

You hadn’t meant to leave the book in the library but you did and that’s when Sam found it. After that, once you realised the bunker could be your base, your home, you cleared out a shelf to put your little collection of books. You even made a habit of going to a bookshop in every town you had a case to see if anything caught your eye. For a while anyway. Then there was the Mark and you really stopped caring about all that for a while. But now you figure you should, no, you will, start up that habit again. You like the feeling of finding something for your own. You can’t fail the books, you can’t fail the characters. They are basically the only things you can care about that you won’t hurt. Even though losing a books feels kinda bad at least there are other copies. The characters are still there, are still ok, can still keep going with their lives and adventures. You don’t need to save them because they already do it themselves. You know they’ve saved you more often than you like to admit outside your own most private of thoughts.

Slowly you come back to yourself and focus on the blue eyes staring right back at you. Oh. You glance away briefly, then back, then cough and look away again. He says nothing. Neither do you. Neither of you ever do. It is a good unspoken system that no one ever mentions. Except Sam. But who listens to him? (Well, you do. Shut up.) You look back at Cas again and he’s still staring. Change the subject. Make conversation. DO something. “So… ahh… Why did you need to sleep anyway? I thought with your mojo back and everything, big angel like you wouldn’t need sleep…” What even? Ok, you were curious. So? ‘Big angel like you’! Dude why.

Finally he blinks again. “I used most of my reserves flying home earlier, as I said. I needed to build up energy again. Sleeping is a good way to do that. I’m not sure if I will ever be fully powered up again. Perhaps I will always need sleep. I don’t know…”

The silence and staring are starting to reach critical levels again when someone clears their throat in the doorway. You both jump and turn to see Sam standing in there with three plates of food in his hands. “I was hungry, so I thought I’d heat up last night’s leftovers for dinner…”

Right on cue, your stomach grumbles. Sam shakes his head and Cas snorts. Snorts? Since when does he _snort_? You glare but a smile still plays at his lips. They are nice lips, a little chapped but—WHOA and stopping that thought _right_ there. Where did that even come from? Stop. Stop thinking about it. Sam plonks the plate down in front of you and resumes the seat he had earlier in the day. “You okay there, man?” he asks.

“I’m fine, Sammy,” you assure him gruffly. “Thanks for the food.” And finally, you successfully stop an inquiry before it properly gets started and you blab all your life problems. It was bound to happen at some point and damn are you glad that it worked now. That would’ve gotten really awkward _really_ fast. Cos it was nothing. Just casual observation. There was nothing meant by those thoughts. Nothing at all. Completely platonic observation. (Yeah, keep telling yourself that.) You start shovelling food into your mouth to hide whatever expressions your face might be giving away. Its pasta with cheese and sauce. Not something you would normally go for but hey, it’s actually pretty good… 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you like it :)
> 
> sam's a lil shit. i love it :D
> 
> also i just really love bookworm dean. cos in the show he really is so smart and has read a lot. one episode he actually says he's read the odyssey, like thats some pretty intense stuff right there.  
> (also anyone notice slaughterhouse 5 was from hurleyville high? thats where he was when he was at sonnys. i really think that after he left there he just stopped caring. cos he realised he's always gonna pick sam over his own happiness, over what he wants, so why should he bother trying... :(
> 
> im on [tumblr](http://www.ismylifejustfantasy.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for panic attack!!
> 
> (sorry, this one was a bit late. i promise the next one will not take as long :) )

The following days see you and Cas marathon practically every series you own, and some you don’t. You remembered Charlie saying something about Netflix, so you set up a wifi connection to the TV and got an account. You got through Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi, but avoided the prequels because. Just. No. Then there was more Star Trek – Wrath of Khan, and the new ones. You could swear you saw a tear in Cas’ eye in the reactor scene. Both reactor scenes, actually. Though you’d never let Sam know, you did too. Then there was all the extended Lord of the Rings. 

Sam joined you for Firefly day – every episode plus Serenity. By 10 that night all of you were sitting staring at the title screen on loop feeling sort of empty and melancholy. There was a moment there when you all froze because what was Crowley doing on a TV show, and dressed like that? Then you realise it must have been his vessel.

“I thought he was a book guy or agent or something…” you say.

“Must have been an actor at some point too then…” Sam did a quick google search which confirmed man’s change of profession and then sudden disappearance several years ago. 

It’s back to the two of you for Battlestar Galactica – the ’05 remake, not the original 70s one. Because let’s be honest, who wouldn’t? Cas got a bit upset when it turned out Gadreel’s vessel used to be an actor too, and walked out. You found him an hour later sitting on the hill that made up the roof of the bunker.

“I apologise, Dean. I know I should not be reacting in such a way. He did terrible things—”

“So have you. So have I. He was your brother, and he came around in the end. Sacrificed himself so you could get Metatron. There’s nothing wrong with being upset.”

The probably-angel looks up at you. “Do you let yourself be upset when you don’t save someone? When an ally, even if unexpected, dies because of your foolish plan?”

“God no,” you scoff. “I usually drown it out with booze and women.” Cas glances away quickly, looking at his shoes. “But if… if this is what you do, that’s cool too, man. Or you can talk to… ah… talk to Sam. He’s better at this crap than I am.”

His mouth twitches slightly. “I don’t think you're doing so bad, Dean. You shouldn’t think so little of yourself. There’s more to you than I think you realise.”

“Whoa whoa, we were talking about you being sad, not me being crap.”

“You brought it up…”

You groan in partially fake frustration. “Yeah, yeah. You ok now? Wanna go watch some more?”

He nods and stands, and you walk side by side back to the door.

 

After that there’s more Doctor Who and Star Trek – episodes this time. Charlie comes for a visit suddenly and Game of Thrones happens. The one problem with that is the seating. Only the one couch and an armchair, which Sam has already called eternal dibs on. Which leaves you sandwiched between Cas and Charlie. And if you sit a tiny bit closer to Cas than absolutely necessary, well, no one’s paying any attention once Ned gets his head chopped off anyway.

A few days becomes a week, which becomes two. You reaffirm your love of Batman, while Cas develops quite a soft spot for Steve Rogers. Charlie is still around, rambling about how in love Steve and Bucky are, the ‘soulful staring and always having each other’s back and how Steve trekked through the wilderness to save him’. You glance at Cas and smirk, amused by her zealousness. You have to admit she has some good points, but you and Cas look at each other like that and there’s obviously nothing going on there so… At some point you realise Charlie has trailed off and is currently staring at the both of you, glancing back and forth. All of a sudden she bursts into hysterical laughter and runs out of the room. You frown after her and Cas turns his cute squinty eyes on you, looking for answers. You shrug and say, “I don’t know man.” The movie is unpaused and you continue. 

It gets to that scene with Bucky and the lab. You don’t notice at first because you're already planning once again all the imaginative ways Alexander Pierce needs to die. Then the contraption closes and Cas lets out a little whimper. 

He has his knees pulled up to his chest and has a shudder that runs through him every few seconds. Eyes are wide but staring at nothing, filled with terrible fear, like you’ve seen on him just once before. “Cas?” No reaction. “Shit. Cas!” You fumble for the remote to pause the movie and the Winter Soldier’s screams are abruptly cut off. You make sure your voice is steady and calm before speaking again. Otherwise it might make Cas worse. “Hey, Cas. Buddy. What do you need? Cas, can you hear me? Can you tell me what you need?” He looks at you but there is no other reaction. Well, you like being held so maybe that’ll help him too. “Can I hold you? I’m… I’m gonna touch your shoulder. Is that okay?” Cas gives a small nod, so you reach over. He is shivering and tears are welling up in his eyes but he immediately leans into the touch, sighing. Taking this as a good sign, you can gather him right up to your chest, rocking gently and crooning like you did for Sam years ago as kids. His hand clenches around your shirt as he burrows into your chest. “Sh-sh-shhhh. Hey. Cas. You're okay. Shhh… You’re safe. Those sons of bitches can’t get you anymore. They won’t get you. I’m here. You’re okay, buddy.” You whisper words you wish someone had said to you as a kid, as a teenager, hell even in the last few years, when your heart started pounding too fast and you couldn’t control your memories.

Slowly. Ever so slowly, he stops shaking and relaxes in your arms. When you make to pull away he whimpers again, so you stay put, hugging an angel through a panic attack. His arm snakes around your waist, holding you close. You start the film again, on mute until that scene is over. Charlie comes back at some point and looks about to comment on your change in position, but the look you shoot her keeps her quiet.

When Cas goes to the bathroom, you briefly explain it to her. She understands. Cas doesn’t say much for the rest of the day but seems to be okay. That night though, you’re woken up by the angel yelling in Enochian from down the hall. Both Charlie and Sam are out in the hall too but once you go to the door they both return to bed. They know you’ve got this. It only takes the creaking hinges to startle the angel awake. He sits up in shock, panting, eyes watering. “Dean…” he whispers brokenly.

“Lie back down, Cas.” You sit on the floor next to him as he falls back and faces you. 

You are beginning to think he’s asleep again when he murmurs, “You died. I killed you. They made me kill you. You were dead. Hundreds of times. I couldn’t… I couldn’t stop. Dean, I killed you and I couldn’t…” Tears threaten to spill over as memories of the dream overtake.

His hand is warm in yours, but not clammy. “Hey. I’m here man. I’m not dead. I’m right here. You didn’t kill me. I am alive and I am okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

He nods and sniffles and closes his eyes again. Soon enough, little snores drift from Cas’ mouth and you watch the even rise and fall of his chest by the light of the lamp.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im always on [tumblr](http://www.ismylifejustfantasy.tumblr.com) so come say hi
> 
> i would love to know what you all think, comments or kudos are always much appreciated :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this one is a tiny bit late, but it is longer than the others...  
> anyway, enjoy! :)

You don’t notice yourself dozing until you wake up, back stiff, rear numb and a dent in your head from leaning against the bedside table for half the night.

Your arm is still twisted at a weird angle where Cas has it in a death grip. His face is scrunched up, like he’s trying to puzzle something out in his dream. “Cas?” You shake your hand a little but he doesn’t stir. “Hey, Cas, buddy. Wakey wakey.” This time he snuffles and then rolls over, pulling your hand and arm with him.

“Ow! Shit! Cas, let go.” Stupid angel strength. He just curls up tighter. Now you're hanging awkwardly off the bed, trying to get free but also not dislocate your shoulder. Again. You don’t know how many times you can do that before something goes majorly wrong…

Finally he flexes his fingers momentarily and you manage to slip out of his grasp. You also land with a fairly loud thud on the floor. Maybe Cas had a point about the amount of food you’ve been consuming... No. Never. But either way, Cas sits up with a gasp, grabbing for the angel blade under his pillow. When he focuses on you, a flipbook of emotions flashes over his face. Surprise, relief, confusion, understanding. You can pick the exact moment when he remembers why you're in his room. Fear, and then blank as he tries to compose himself. But you can still see the watery film in his eyes. He takes a few shaky breaths and seems to compose himself.

“Are you… how you feelin’, man?” you ask carefully as you relocate yourself off the floor and onto the bed next to Cas.

He tries to smile, to reassure you. The result is not quite what he aimed for but honestly, it’s as good as any human could probably manage under the same circumstances. “I’m… fine…” He pauses. “You stayed.”

You shrug. “Yeah, I guess. Couldn’t leave you alone with the nightmares. That shit gets pretty rough.”

This time ‘round the smile is genuine, if a little wan. “Thank you, Dean.”

“And hey, you look kinda cute when you snore.”

The angel freezes. What? WHAT? How could you just—Why did you say…? Oh god. Oh god no.

“What?” he says.

“Nothing!”

“Did you just—?”

“No, I didn’t say… I didn’t say anything. Nothing. At all.” Oh fuck dammit Dean. Get yourself out of this mess right the hell now. “Uh… Do you… Do you hungry? Is breakfast?” Wow. Dude. Wow. Real smooth. Not suspicious at all. Nope. Cas does his usual confused expression and he really needs to stop doing that because he just does. 

Right then Charlie yells out that the bacon’s done and they better get their asses out there if they want any before she eats it all. You huff a laugh. Thank frigging God. Or, well, thank Charlie. That girl deserves a medal. Cas is smiling too, a little, but you are sure (and hope) that it’s because of Charlie’s threat, not anything else that happened. 

You get the sudden urge to take Cas’ hand. And shit. Well there’s really no point denying anything to yourself anymore. The past few weeks have just been getting worse and worse. And look at that, resulted in the worst slip-up in the history of worst slip-ups. But just because you can’t deny it to yourself, doesn’t mean you can’t deny it to everyone else. You are Dean Winchester. Master of Denial and Hiding the Truth.

 

Of course, Charlie must be a mind reader or something. When you enter the kitchen she eyes you suspiciously and you feel your cheeks heat up even more. Searching the fridge for sauces and things is a good way of hiding your face. Until Sam points out that everything is already out on the table because ‘you two dawdled in Cas’ room too much’. At which point you blush even harder for both the original reason and also your lack of observation skills. Friggin’ Sam.

You throw yourself into the chair and hunch over. Bottles clink angrily while you search for the syrup and Sam looks at you with eyebrows raised. “What?” you grunt.

“You okay?”

Fucking hell, can’t he just leave you alone?! “I’m fine!” you growl back. 

Now Cas looks concerned as well. He brushes his hand against your arm but you flinch away from the touch. Seeing the hurt expression on Cas’ face makes you regret it immediately, want to take it back. But Sam was right there and it was… automatic.

The rest of breakfast is tense. You stew in regret, Sam glares, Cas plays with his food but barely eats and Charlie, bless her, tries to diffuse the situation. Failing that, she withdraws into herself. Occasionally she gets a little smirk, a cunning smile. She’s planning something and you are slightly afraid.

 

For the first time in over a week, you don’t go to the TV room after breakfast. Instead, you flop down on your bed and blare Led Zeppelin though your headphones, trying to drown out the entire morning. Inevitably though, you turn to moping some more. Why did you say this? Why did you do that? Why did you flinch away from Cas? But why did Sam have to say that stuff? But then you suppose you didn’t have to react like that either… Maybe you should go apologise to Cas… Or you could just stay in your room forever. Yeah, that plan sounds pretty good.

By the time someone comes knocking on your door, you’ve gotten through Zep II and Physical Graffiti and are starting on Houses of the Holy. It takes you a moment to register the noise because of the volume. Eventually you got tired of your own thoughts and turned it up loud enough to drown out even yourself.

When you finally do yell out for who ever it is to come in, Cas peers nervously around the door. “Are you okay, Dean?”

You sigh. Okay. Yes. You over-reacted. Now apologise, you idiot. “Um… yeah.” Do it… “I’m okay…” You coward, just say the damn words. “I’m…” Oh for fuck’s sake. “I’m sorry, Cas.”

His eyes widen, taken aback. You continue to try to explain yourself. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that. You didn’t do anything. Sam’s been… You know what, it’s not even Sam, he’s always done that shit. I just. I was a dick and I’m sorry.”

“I… thank you, Dean. I don’t know if I will ever understand your aversion to any displays of emotion or close relationships of any nature, but I appreciate the apology. I apologise also, for making you uncomfortable. It was never my intention, I was only worried about you.”

“Nah man, it’s fine, like I said. And you know, I don’t know why either. I’ve just always been that way, I think…” Except you kinda do know. Why you were averse to Sam’s innuendos earlier, anyway. Not that you can tell Cas that. Ever. A small voice in your head whispers something about not always being that way and changing for a particular reason, but you stamp down on that very swiftly. Not something you need to deal with now, on top of everything else.

Cas nods but his attention drifts. He fidgets with the cuff of the red shirt he ‘borrowed’ off you weeks ago. It’s been getting much colder recently. Winter is definitely on the way and you need to remember to go on a clothes run soon so the guy doesn’t freeze when it properly sets in. Eventually he takes a deep breath and asks, “So… do you want… Last night you said there was one more movie in that series… Would you like to come watch?”

Your face brightens. “Hell yes! It’s the best one of the lot!” You stand and make to clean up your room when you realise there are no plates or food containers to be collected, since you’ve spent so little time in here recently.

Cas’ mouth forms the semblance of a smile, but it is more like his ‘smile’ of years ago – emotionless, not reaching his eyes. Crap. You didn’t do something else, did you? Did you say somethng? Last night in you sleep, maybe? “What’s up, buddy?” You sit back down heavily on he edge of your bed.

He hesitates. Obviously something is bothering him. “There’s not… there aren’t any scenes that… what happened yesterday…” Oh god, he’s been worrying about that. He’s been worrying while you’ve been sulking in your room. You are the worst friend, how could you… You notice him waiting, face falling more each second you delay. Hurry up and answer him, you piece of shit. “A scene that’ll trigger a panic attack? No, there’s nothing like that. You’ll be fine.”

“A…a panic attack? That’s what that was?”

“Yeah. Some things can trigger it, if you have bad things in your past, or just anxiety… Theres nothing wrong with getting them. Well, it sucks. And it’s scary. But as long as me and Sam and Charlie know he best way to help you get through them, you’ll be okay. Even by yourself. If you know what you need to do, as long as you aren’t too out of it…”

“You know a lot about this…”

Your mouth stretches in a sad smile and your hand makes its way to the back of your neck. You did reveal a lot about yourself just then, didn’t you… “Uh, yeah… I used to get them a lot, when I was a teenager mainly, and after hell, but still sometimes now too…”

“How do you deal with them?” he asks, suddenly earnest.

“Uh, well my ways might not work for you, Cas—”

“No, so I know how to help if I’m around when you have one.”

“…Oh. Right. Uh…” You rub the back of your neck in embarressment, then pause when you realise what you're doing. “Well, there’s this.” You repeat the motion. “My mum… she used to do that when I was sad. I guess the calming thing carried over… and… and I like to be held, it feels safe.” Cas nods solemnly, taking in every word like gospel.

“It felt good when you held me, yesterday. It helped a lot, I think,” he tellls you.

“Good. That’s good.” Finding nothing else to say, you push yourself into standing once again and suggest going to watch the movie. Opening the door reveals Charlie, fist raised to knock. She grins.

“When you two are done with your touchy-feely apologising, Guardians is go.” You fix her with the most wrathful glare you save for the most awful of monsters you hunt. Of course, she doesn’t even flinch. If anything, she smiles wider. You just shake your head in exasperation and brush past her down the hall. You miss the questioning expression on Cas’ face and Charlie’s answering, pretend-confused shrug.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im always on [tumblr](http://www.ismylifejustfantasy.tumblr.com) so come say hi
> 
> i would love to know what you all think, comments or kudos are always much appreciated :)
> 
> if you feel like something should be tagged, or if you find any mistakes just let me know and i'll fix it :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a week late, but double the length for y'all, so enjoy :)
> 
> take note of the new tags - its not very major, but dean has his self-loathing thing. not much but it is there, thought i should warn people

You watch Guardians of the Galaxy and Cas laughs when you start jamming and playing air guitar to the songs. You grin at him and start singing terribly too. And maybe your gaze lingers a little longer when you sing ‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough’ but he doesn’t seem to notice or care. If anything, his own gaze softens and lingers too, hearing the lyrics and possibly relating. You’ve both done crazy shit for each other, him even more than you. 

Later, when you catch Charlie’s eye, she smiles softly, knowing. You look away. You can’t let her do this. Pity. She can’t know anything.

“Hey Dean?” Charlie pulls you aside after the movie. Cas is going to have a shower and you were going to grab a drink. Seems you may need more than a beer by the end of this conversation. You hope not but judging by the looks she shot you earlier…

“What’s up?”

All of a sudden, she turns shy. Hesitant. She shuffles around and looks anywhere but your face. The Queen of Moondor does not hesitate. This is going to be one hell of a discussion. “So ah… What’s up with you and Cas?”

Fuck. Well, just because she noticed something doesn’t mean you’ll make this easy for her. “What do you mean, what’s up with us?”

“Come on, Dean. I know you aren’t that dense.”

“Charlie, hate to break it to you, but I have got no idea what you are talking about.”

“Oh, for frack’s sake. The way you look at each other, and talk to each other and interact with each other… Man, when I got here I asked Sam _when_ you guys got together.” You scowl but she continues, “And you know what he said? He said ‘Yeah, I wish.’” Right. Sam is so gonna get it when you're done here.

You close your eyes and beg any deity you haven’t pissed off or killed yet that you get out of this situation before anything is said that you will regret. You still have a bit of a happy buzz going from the movie and Cas’ laugh (…shut up. That is irrelevant.) You would rather keep that going a while longer. “We. Are. Just. Friends. That is all we are. Nothing more is ever _going_ to happen. Can I go now?” You don’t wait for an answer, you just turn away. 

You almost make it to the door before you hear in almost a whisper, “But do you want it to be something more?” You stop. Mind blank. All good vibes you had left from the movie have evaporated. How do you… what do you even… Yes but… You can’t tell her. You’ve barely even admitted it to yourself, no one else can know. Except apparently they do. Hell, your brother and friend knew before you did. But you can’t…

“Well, do you?”

Suddenly the wall beside you becomes terribly fascinating and you shift from foot to foot. “I-I dunno…” You shrug. “Maybe… but—”

“What was that, Dean?”

You groan. “Yes, but—”

“Uh uh uh.”

You throw your head back. God why? Fuck. She isn’t gonna stop until she gets her answer. You rub your hand down your face and sigh heavily. “Fine! Yes. Yes I want something more. You happy now?

Enthusiastic nodding is accompanied by a broad grin. No. She can’t do this. This isn’t… “Whatever. Not like anything is ever going to happen.”

She frowns, confused. “Why not?”

“Why not?” you ask incredulously. How does she not know why not?? “Because he doesn’t… He would never… Just because I want something… else, does not mean he wants it too.”

She just stares at you and shakes her head. “Have you even seen him? Like, actually? The way he looks at you is…”

“He doesn’t know any different! He’s a friggin’ angel. He doesn’t get emotions or how to show them or anything!”

“He was an angel. We don’t know if he is now, but honestly, he hasn’t been fully angel in a damn long time. He does get emotions. You are the one who has been teaching him that, since you met you’ve been teaching him. It’s because you're so emotionally constipated—” She pokes you in the chest and you blanch. Sure, _you_ know you are, but how does anyone else? “—that he doesn’t know how to deal with it!”

“But exactly! I can’t show emotions for shit. So how the hell would he know how to? How would he know how to read them? How the fuck would he know what… what some emotions are even supposed to look like. For all he knows, the way he looks at me is just what good friends do. He would have no reason to think it was anything else. Why would he… He probably doesn’t even like guys…”

She sighs loudly. “You know he is ‘indifferent to sexual orientation’, don’t you?” You scowl even deeper. “Have you even talked to him about any of this?”

You snort in derision. “Of course not. Why would I do that?”

“Uh, because maybe he actually does want something more too?”

“He doesn’t! He wouldn’t. For fuck’s sake, no. I won’t.”

“Dean…”

“No, Charlie! Nothing will ever come of anything so why should I jeopardise what we finally have? I won’t ruin this friendship for a hope.” You feel your anger seeping away, to be replaced with resignation and hurt. Damn these emotions. You won’t cry. Dean Winchester does not cry. (Okay, you do sometimes but that was like, one time…) “I’m not worth him. There’s no way he’d… I might want… but that doesn’t mean anything. It can’t.” Fuck these feelings. They hurt worse than reading about Oberyn’s death. Even the thought of dropping that spoiler in front of Sam doesn’t cheer you up anymore.

“Oh Dean.”

She pulls you in close for a hug, and you let her comfort you for while you get your emotions under control. You pull away. “Shit Charlie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything, it’s—”

She cuts you off. “It’s fine. It’s good, healthy. You're allowed to have feelings, you're allowed to show them.”

You snort, then have to sniff too. Stupid tears making your nose run. “Dean?” You freeze. How long has Sam been standing there? What did he hear?? You wipe a hand down your face and turn around. “Whoa, what the hell man?! What happened?” he exclaims. Well, not much then. Thank god.

“Hold on Sam, I’ll tell you later. I’m not done yet,” Charlie answers for you. Like hell is she telling Sam what you basically just confessed.

“Hey hey hey, no way. You are not—”

“Shut the frack up, Dean, I’m not done,” she snaps. You blink wider, surprised by her tone. “Thank you. Okay. So, I’ve read the books, Dean. Your dad…” You try to protest but her glare is enough to silence you. “Your dad was wrong. All that macho bullshit… it’s crap. Suffering in silence, letting things fester cos you don’t think you should feel anything, or don’t think you're allowed to… Doesn’t make you a man or any of that crap.” She grips your arms tight, comforting. Your breath shakes and you feel yourself cracking. When you square your shoulders, Charlie shakes them and continues, “Hey. Stop. Your feelings are valid. They mean something. They can mean whatever you want them to. Sam is not your only priority. Before you protest, he agrees with me…”

That’s where Sam cuts in. “Yeah, Dean. Dad always told you only I mattered, I know he did. But man, Dad was a dick.” You snort. “You know that.”

“Well, he raised you too, and you aren’t screwed in the head like me…”

“But he didn’t, Dean! You raised me! You were five years old and told you didn’t matter by the one guy you shoulda been able to count on. He treated you like shit and tried to make you into his perfect minion. No feelings, just follow. Everyone else comes first. But it’s crap!”

Right as he stops, Charlie picks up again, like a well-oiled machine. You bet they planned it. Probably practiced, even. “Take something for yourself, Dean. Take a risk. Just ask. Just cos you think shit of yourself, doesn’t mean anyone else does.”

You look back and forth between them both and feel crap. They’re both so earnest, looking at you, waiting. But you can’t. You just can’t. Not yet. Maybe never. But definitely not now. He’s your friend. Finally. After all the lying and disagreements and apocalypses and dying, you’ve worked things out (more or less), you can just hang out and there’s no bad feelings or obligations or any of that. You're just friends and you are thankful to finally have reached that stage. 

But you have to make them think you're okay. You need to get them to just leave you alone for a bit. You sigh heavily and tell them you’ll think about it then walk out. You think about going to your room but there’s too many things in there. Too much thought. Then you think about going to the kitchen. Alcohol is there. You could grab the bottle of whiskey and get blind drunk. But you haven’t done that in weeks. Cas is always your silent judge, you hate drinking too much in front of him. So you bypass the kitchen too. Sometime later you find your feet taking you towards the garage. A drive. You haven’t taken your baby for a long drive in ages. Too long. The car rumbles familiarly under you as you start up the engine.

You could get a few towns over before the sun sets. Back for dinner though. A low laugh escapes you. Going for a drive but actually planning to be home for dinner. Never in your life did you think that you could have something so domestic with Sam around and being hunters. Somewhere to be back to, people to be back to apart from your brother. No, you lost any hope of that thirty years ago in a fire that burned down your entire life. Yet here it is. You're all a bit broken, but you have something. Why can’t Sam see that? You have something. You have a little bit of something that makes you happy. You can’t lose one of the last things you have left. 

And yeah, you're a bit screwed in the head. You all are. Who wouldn’t be, after the life you’ve had to deal with. John was a dick and he was the reason you both had to deal with a lot of the stuff you did. But still…

You can’t help but think though, about your childhood. Everything he ever told you. Always Sam, never yourself. You’ve been sacrificing yourself for him for years now as hunters, but when you really think about it, and are really honest with yourself, you realise that you started many years before the two of you were hunting yourselves. Yes, you have a problem with your own emotions. Because no they have never mattered. But that’s exactly what they were saying, wasn’t it? That you are allowed and matter and your dad was wrong. 

But the situation with Cas… You’ve barely clarified your feelings to yourself. There is no way in hell you are going to tell Cas anything. You’d just scare him off or he’d give you that pitying look and everything would end up weird. Hell, just imagining that look in his eyes… Ugh, you are getting sick of these thoughts so you blast some Metallica loud and try to drown everything out as you drive. 

You chase the never-ending white lines for maybe a few miles with blissful silence in your head until it all starts up again. What if you did take the risk? What if he said yes? But he wouldn’t, would he? You were just a terrible role-model for emotions to him. No matter what he said. Fuck but imagine…

Those thoughts chase each other around so much you can’t even concentrate on the road anymore. You pull over in a rest stop and fall against the steering wheel. This is ridiculous. You just need to stop thinking about it all. This drive was meant to help you do that but apparently not. You sit there for a long time not thinking, both hands firm against the back of your neck. Just a sort of blank staring, half formed thoughts, images, feelings. Finally you feel calm.

You only come back to yourself when your phone rings. You don’t even remember grabbing it before you left… But it’s there and Sam’s name is flashing on the screen. You almost don’t pick up but then the darkness around the impala registers. The sun set a while ago. Shit. “Heya Sammy.”

_Dean where the hell are you?_

“I just went for a drive. Somewhere not far out of Lebanon…” You look around and realise it’s barely a few miles past the small town. “Shit, I musta fallen asleep or something…”

_Dean! You were driving! What the hell?!_

“I pulled over man! Geez, I’m not that stupid.”

On the other end of the line Sam sighs loudly. You can practically feel the bitch-face through the phone. _Anyway. I just wanted to check you were okay. Cos of those demons the other week, make sure you didn’t do anything stupid cos of what me and Charlie said…_

“Since when do you check up me?”

_Since you stormed out in a rage four and a half hours ago without telling any of us where you were going after you’ve barely left the bunker in the last two weeks._

“Four and a half…” You shake your head. Time is weird. It couldn’t have been more than one or two. But the time on your watch and phone say different. “Alright then. Want me to pick up dinner?”

 _Sure. Hang on._ The line goes quiet for a moment, followed by some muffled yelling and then a bang as Sam drops his phone. 

“Smooth Sammy,” you laugh.

 _Shut up. Cas and Charlie are good with burgers._ Of course Cas wants burgers. You can’t help the upward twitch at the corner of your lips. _Get me a salad or something though, man._

“Yeah yeah, I’ll get your damn rabbit food.”

_Jerk_

“Bitch.” 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do you all think? comments and kudos are always welcome and very appreciated.
> 
> also im thinking of doing the next chapter from charlie's pov. what do you think?
> 
> on tumblr [here](http://www.ismylifejustfantasy.tumblr.com)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing is hard. this just did not want to be written until about 2am this morning. apologies for any mistakes, i just really wanna get this posted before i go away (i probabaly wont have internet all trip)
> 
> hope you like it :)

Charlie expected to be called by Sam at some point. New information, new leads to chase down. Something. Whatever. She was cool with that. But to be called at 3 am. In the same time zone… Not appreciated.

“What the frack do you want, Sam?” She grumbled sleepily into the ancient flip phone they had given her.

“Shit. Sorry, Charlie,” Sam’s muffled voice crackled through the receiver. “Did I wake you up? Where are you, what time zone?”

“Same as you, dumbass. I’m up near Pontiac double-checking for Cas-grace-residue like you asked.”

Silence. “Oh. Crap. Sorry. Wait, what time is it?”

“Like, 3 am or something. You better tell me what’s so important that you lost track of time and thought it was a good idea to call me in the middle of the frackin’ night or I swear to god, Sam, I will come down there and kick your ass myself.”

“Ah…” he huffs a nervous laugh. Good. He better not underestimate her. “Honestly, I just need you to get down here.”

“What, why? What happened?” Oh shit. No. They fixed it. The Mark was meant to be gone, wasn’t it?

Sam must’ve heard the fear creep into her voice. “No, no,” he soothes, “Nothing serious. Just… I need your help on something, but you need to see for yourself. I can’t take it anymore, Charlie.”

“Whoa, alright Sam. I’ll be down soon. Late tomorrow probably. Cos right now—” Charlie stifles a massive yawn against the back of her hand. “—Right now. I am going back to sleep.”

“Right, ah, thanks a lot, Charlie. And sorry again for waking you up…”

“Oh you will be,” she mutters with all the sleepy venom she can muster. On the other end of the line, Sam chuckles, then wishes her good night and hangs up. Charlie rolls over and punches the pillow into a better shape before drifting off into a strange dream, in which she is the Queen of Westeros, ruling with her Hand and secret lover Hermione…

 

Everyone is eating dinner when Charlie arrives that night. Sam doesn’t say anything so she snags herself the few left over pieces and settles down to catch up. It also becomes apparent that this is supposedly a surprise visit as far as Dean and Castiel know. Something must be up with them. Over the course of the meal, Charlie pays extra attention to them. Dean is much more… carefree. He laughs more and jokes more and makes more references. He grins at Cas a lot, especially when he laughs at Dean jokes. When he doesn’t, Dean will lean in and explain it, or say they’ve gotta watch that next. She doesn’t think he even notices that he’s doing it. And when he leaves Cas the last slice of pizza, or gets him a fresh beer from the fridge, the look Cas gives him is nothing short of adoring. It’s so domestic and sweet she feels like she’s been hit by a sugar mill.

Charlie almost comments on it but Sam shoots her a warning look. Weird. Maybe it’s recent and they don’t like it being brought up…

Later, after packing up, Dean and Cas both disappear with a bowl of popcorn and a bag of icing sugar. Sam holds her back for several minutes as they do the dishes, then motions for her to follow quietly.

“Ew, Sam. What are we doing?”

He glances back then his face contorts in disgust. “Oh, gross, Charlie. Nothing like that. That’s… ugh.” He shudders.

They approach the door to the room she was told was the TV room on the way to the kitchen, and she can immediately distinguish the voice of Picard. She’s about to walk in and make herself comfortable – it’s been ages since she could sit down and just watch some TV – but Sam holds her back with his inhuman-sized arm, and gestures for silence. He points at the two guys on the couch and mouths ‘just watch’.

They’re both sitting with the popcorn between them, closer than they really need to be to reach properly. Dean elbows Cas and gestures at the screen when Picard says ‘Make it so, number one.’ Cas smirks and nods. That’s when Dean notices something in the angel’s hand.

“Nah man, you gotta put sugar on it. See, like this.” He demonstrates, but Cas isn’t watching. “Hey, Cas—”

“Shh, Dean, I can’t hear what they’re saying.”

“Doesn’t matter that much, he’s just explaining the mission.”

“Yes. And usually that is fairly important to the plot of the episode,” Cas huffs, still concentrating on the screen.

“Here, just…” Dean grabs the hand holding a kernel and dunks it straight in the bag of sugar.

“Dean—”

“There. Just like that. Simple.” Except he doesn’t let go of the hand then. He keeps moving it right up to Cas’ mouth. Cas goes cross-eyed trying to focus on it.

“Dean, I don’t think this is at all healthy.”

“Hey. It’s awesome. Sam’s just a whiny bitch. Don’t worry.” Cas still looks dubious but opens his mouth and lets Dean put the popcorn in there. He glares and grumbles about missing all the dialogue, but there’s no heat to it and Charlie notices he puts a generous coating on the next kernel. Dean sits back happily looking satisfied.

That’s when Sam nods his head towards the library. Show time’s over, apparently.

 

“So?” he asks.

“That. Was adorable. Disgustingly cute. I feel sick,” Charlie replies. “Since when did they get together? You shoulda told me!”

Sam laughs sharply. “I wish.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “What? You mean they aren’t…?”

He shakes his head. 

Charlie’s eyes widen. “You have got to be kidding me. That was…” She shakes her head in disbelief.

Sam grimaces. “Yeah. Well. I gotta live with it. At the start, it was funny. Y’know, and I’d tease Dean and he’d blow up in my face, and it was hilarious and satisfying revenge for all the years of the whole ‘soulful staring’ thing that I had to deal with. But man, we haven’t left the bunker in well over a week. And they’re just like that. Watching TV and missing each other’s glances and all the food, it’s… ugh, I can’t take it anymore, Charlie.”

She nods slowly. “Don’t worry, Sam. We’ll figure something out. Give me another day for recon and we’ll make a plan.” She then pats him on the shoulder and gives him a grin that makes Sam infinitely thankful that she’s on his side.

 

The following day, Charlie spends a lot of time squished on the couch next to Dean while they watch the whole first season of Game of Thrones. She only pays half attention to the show (she’s watched it almost a dozen times over already anyway), and spends more time observing Dean and Cas interact out of the corner of her eye. When she notices the difference in distance between her and Dean, and Dean and Cas she smirks secretively. It’s a scene with Dany so they probably just pass it off as excitement at seeing her.

 

Charlie and Sam agree to spend the next week making the odd comment and gently ribbing the other two (mainly Dean, Cas doesn’t pick up on the teasing so well yet.) There is one point when she starts rambling about Steve and Bucky, and then they look at each other like she’s crazy. Suddenly she realises the completely unintentional parallels between both pair and bursts into hysterical laughter. She has to run to the library to calm down, and Sam spends a frantic few minutes attempting to get any information from her before she can breathe properly again.

When she goes back, she thinks they may have hit the jackpot, because Cas tightly wrapped in Dean’s embrace. Except he’s trembling and burrowing into Dean’s shirt like he’s trying to hide and Dean’s face shuts down any remark she may have made.

In the hall that night, Dean looks both worried out of his mind and also calmly determined. Like he knows he’ll fix this. He’ll stop Cas hurting. He’s got to. It strikes Charlie in that moment that whatever is between them is not just movies and food and a gentle thing that built up after all their obligations to each other and the world finally went away. It is so much more – more important, more potent, forged in hellfire and deeply rooted in their painful shared histories littered with sacrifice and bound by loyalty. Of course they’re totally _in_ love, but also they really love each other.

 

Dean doesn’t react how he usually does to their teasing. First he goes as read as Scotty’s shirt, and tries unsuccessfully to hide the fact in the fridge, which really only makes it worse. Then he gets his whole angry and broody thing going on. Cas looks hurt by Dean’s reaction, and Charlie starts to plot.

Unfortunately, she can’t share her ideas with Sam until later. Dean locked himself away for hours and Cas looked hopelessly lost with no TV to watch, so he joined her and Sam in the library to help catalogue. They send each other surreptitious messages though the computers when they can and they quickly develop a plan, with only one hitch which she mentions when Cas goes to find Dean. 

“You're a terrible actor, Sam. I don’t even know how you manage to pass as FBI agents at all. Seriously, it’s horrific.”

“Don’t worry, I can do this,” he insists. “This is for the good of humanity. And man-kind.” She’s ninety percent sure the damn Chewbacca lookalike is gonna ruin the whole thing but he’s all she’s got.

 

Sam hovers until the movies ends and Charlie catches Dean in the room to talk. Sam then stations himself outside the door and out of Dean’s possible eye line to act as an emergency road-block if Dean ran, and for reinforcements later in the conversation.

It goes over about half as well as they hoped. At least they got some kind of confession and hopefully made him think about a few things. But then he disappears in his car. 

Time for Phase 2. 

She gets Cas to watch Harry Potter with her, deflecting any inquires about why Dean stormed out. She didn’t risk asking him questions then, it may have seemed too obvious. But once Dean gets back home with dinner, she grabs him and tells him she has to talk to him later. He looks puzzled but doesn’t push.

After the show though, while Dean and Sam clean up, he immediately asks, “What was it you wanted to discuss with me?”

“I just… wanted to ask you about Dean…”

“Dean?” he repeats sharply.

“Yeah…”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i swear, the icing sugar and popcorn thing is bloody amazing
> 
> comments,kudos always very welcome and much appreciated :)
> 
> my tumblr is [here](http://www.ismylifejustfantasy.tumblr.com). come say hi :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooo guys. finally a new chapter yay! i am so sorry this took forever. a lots been happening, classes are back and i havent had a whole lot of time or motivation for writing. but boring lectures never fail to inspire so i am finally back in the writing zone :)
> 
> here is an extra long chapter :) more was meant to go in it but it was getting a bit long and this was a better split, so half the next one is already done. next should probably be up in the next few days hopefully.

Cas is on you the moment you step back in the door with an armful of takeout. He is fuming, and he looks every inch the heavenly soldier who used to smite demons and angels on a daily basis. “Dean! Sam said you fell asleep. How could you be so irresponsible?! You were driving. You didn’t need to be. If you were tired you could’ve—”

“Whoa, calm down man. I was parked at the time. In a rest stop. Don’t worry ‘bout me.”

Cas fumes. “But I do worry about you. Every time you go off by yourself or you go on a hunt or go on a food run. I barely made it home from getting pie. I worry, Dean.” Son of a bitch. The tips of your ears start to burn and your hand makes its way back to the back of your neck. But shit, he knows that tell now. You told him you do it when you're nervous or panicking. Fuck. You look away, clearing your throat. The stairs. Yes. They are a good place to go. Down the stairs, then down to the kitchen. Go there. Get away from the earnest concern in his face. You walk away from him but he is quick to follow.

He sniffs. “Are those burgers? Did… did you get me one?”

“Yeah man, double cheeseburger, extra bacon, and fries.” Cas smiles and trails after you contentedly down to the kitchen. But once you’ve dumped the bags on the table and turned around, he’s gone. Huh. You shrug and fetch plates and ketchup and beers before Sam wanders in. “Hey, you seen where Cas went?”

For an instant, you think Sam freezes. But it passes so quickly you must have imagined it. “Uh, yeah. I saw them just down the hall, they’re coming in a minute. They watched Harry Potter earlier… I’ll go load up Game of Thrones…” He collects his food and leaves quickly just as the other two file in. Almost too quickly…

Cas comes over with a puzzled look on his face and keeps glancing at Charlie. What the hell? She said something to him… Did she say…? Fuck, of course she did. Dammit! You fix her with an icy glare as she dishes up her own food, but when she notices, she shakes her head. Genuinely. No hint of a cheeky smile. Well, what did she say then?

_…Dunn. Dunn. Dada dunn dunn. Dada dun dun. Dada dun dun. Dada dun dun. Dada dun dun. Daa Dunn. Dadadaa dunn. Dadadaa. Dada dun dun dada dun dun dada dun dun dada dun dun …_

The Game of Thrones theme blares though the halls to the kitchen. Interrogating her will have to wait. Now it is Oberyn time. Heh. You can’t wait to drop the spoiler on Sam. Oh yes.

 

“What the hell, Dean?! How could you even know that?” Sam complains.

“Oh. Haven’t you read the books yet?” you ask innocently. “Thought you said you would…” You smirk like the little shit you know you are.

“What, _you’ve_ read them?”

You grin starts to fall from your face. “Well yeah…” You thought he knew you better than that.

Sam rolls his eyes. “No, I mean, I didn’t even know we had a copy of them.” He groans in frustration. “Dammit Dean, he’s cool. Why’d you have to tell me?” 

You offer only a one-armed shrug as an explanation and smirk again. Maybe not a wide as before. That doubt really put a downer on your mood. But you know you can hide it pretty well from Sam, especially when you ask, “Pie?” You feel Bitch-face Number 4: ‘Jesus Christ, Dean, you and pie started the apocalypse, could you not? Like, just one time?’ burn into the back of your head while you search the fridge, before he sighs once again and leaves. 

A scoop of ice cream goes on each of the three bowls of pie, with an extra generous serving on Cas’. The guy is obsessed. You were dubious when Charlie first mentioned it last week. How could one ruin good pie with ice cream. It was sacrilege. But Cas tried it, of course. He was never one to shy away from anything new. Anything that made him feel a little more human. Even now, he still goes to bed each night. You don’t know if he actually sleeps, but he definitely goes through the motions…

Anyway. Then he fixed you with those damn puppy dog eyes that you swear Sam deliberately taught him. So obviously you had to try some too. And it really wasn’t half bad. In fact, it was pretty damn awesome. The contrast of the warm gooey pie and the cold ice cream… Maybe Sam was right that time he joked about you being a chef in another life. Charlie clapped and Cas fixed you with a shy smile that took all your strength to finally look away from. Oh shit. Cas and Charlie. Alone. Out of hearing distance of you and Sam. Oh no. You hastily pack everything away and grab the bowls of dessert. What could she be saying to him. Oh no no no no—

You almost slam right into Cas as he comes into the kitchen bright red and looking mortified. You feel no relief at how the pie was saved from spilling when he focuses on you. There’s a look in his eye you never thought to see directed at you. Fear. He’s afraid of you. What the hell? What happened? Is it another attack? But why is he afraid of _you_?

“Cas?! What’s up? What do you need? What happened?” You struggle to keep you voice calm and steady under your friend’s awful gaze.

He doesn’t say anything, but blinks a few times and that look leaves his eyes. But the tension remains in the set of his shoulders and stiffness of his spine. He doesn’t make eye contact. 

“Come on man, you gotta talk to me? What did I do?”

“You…” he clears his throat. “You didn’t do anything. Don’t worry, Dean. Charlie just…” he rubs the bridge of his nose and sighs. “It doesn’t matter, could you leave it please?”

“Cas…”

“Dean!” he snaps. “Leave it!”

And… wow. That’s… hurts. Why won’t he talk to you? Charlie must’ve talked to him about it. And… if this was his reaction… Does he think you’ll come on to him? Does he think you’ll kick him out again, or that you’ve been trying to… seduce him or something? Oh god. What if he wants to leave now?

Your mouth involuntarily opens and shuts and you frown. “…Yeah, alright. Sorry man.” There’s an awkward pause where you realise you’re still standing very close together, though Cas is looking off to the side over your shoulder as emotions war across his features. It’s strange, you thought he never showed emotion, but the tiny movements you see, that you picked up on over the years, they are there, you understand them. Up close, it’s even more obvious how much he is feeling. It just barely shows. You’ve been reading him for years, how did you never notice how much he feels?

“Dean?” Shit. Staring. Dammit, you thought you had that under control. His brow is furrowed and he’s looking at you curiously, though still tinged with anger. Personal space, that’s what you told him years ago. Ha. Just look at you now.

You stammer, “Yeah, yeah I’m good… Uh, I got you some pie.” You step back and awkwardly shove the bowl at his chest for him to take. 

His expression softens just barely, the anger seeping away. “Thank you, Dean. I think I would like to just eat in my room though. I… I hope that is okay with you. I just need some time to myself.”

“Yeah, of course man,” you brush off. “Whatever you want, it’s cool.” He nods slowly, almost not believing you, before he turns away.

You sigh. A hundred different thoughts immediately start fighting for attention. You’ve already done too much deep thinking today, but apparently your brain isn’t quite done yet.

Of course he wouldn’t want to be in the same room as you after that. Whatever Charlie said seems to have undone all the good work you had both made in your relationship over the past few weeks. Dammit.

 

You are faced with the same dilemma as earlier in the day, where to go. You don’t want to drive again… Eventually you find yourself in the library but Sam is sitting there doing yet more transcribing. Ugh. Dude needs a new hobby. But you have nothing else to do, so you sit down and start helping again. Sam looks up, surprised. Shit. Now he’s gonna ask why you’re helping. You glower at him in the hope that it’ll hold off the questions. The guy pulls as face and shrug s and turns back to his book. You sigh and pull one close. Might as well be productive.

It is boring as shit, as usual. Not ten minutes in, you start humming and tapping to try to break the monotony. Sam glances at you briefly but turns back. Another few minutes later he shoots you another scowl. That’s when you turn it into a game. How long until he cracks. Which, as it happens, is barely a minute later. 

“Oh my god, Dean!” he exclaims. “If you don’t want to be here, what the hell are you doing?” You just shrug to piss him off more. “Why aren’t you hanging out with Cas or something?”

Your eyes flicker away. “He ah… he didn’t want to, just went to his room… I dunno what you guys said to him but—” Someone clears their throat from the hall behind you. Crap. Cas. You try for a smile but you're pretty sure it’s more of a pained grimace. Well done. Really gonna make him feel better. He shuffles over to the table, just as silent as he always has been, and hesitantly grabs The Lord of the Rings, still sitting where he left it days ago. Then he’s gone again with barely a ‘g’night’.

“What _we_ said?” Sam hisses indignantly, still unsure of Cas’ hearing range. “One: I didn’t say a thing to him, Charlie talked to him alone. Two: And I don’t know specifically what she said to him, but I know she didn’t say anything about what you told us. I asked, she promised she wouldn’t.”

“Then why the hell is he afraid of me and wanting to spend the night holed up in his room all of a sudden? The guy’s weird, but he wouldn’t just do that for no reason.”

“What are you, twelve? Did you try maybe talking to him?”

“Of course I fucking tried talking to him,” you grouse. “I’m not a friggin’ kid, sad cos my best friend doesn’t like me anymore. He is the one who didn’t want to talk about whatever it was…” Sam fixes you with his puppy-dog-please-talk-to-me-about-your-problems-Dean face. “Y’know what, screw this.” You push your chair out and storm up the stairs to the front door. Fresh air. That’s what you need. To get away from Sam and the stuffy books and the too-close walls of the massive room.

“Where the hell are you going, Dean?”

“I just need some air,” you snap, slamming the door behind you.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are always welcome and very much appreciated and never fail to make me grin like a dork for several hours or days
> 
> [ismylifejustfantasy](http://www.ismylifejustfantasy.tumblr.com) on tumblr


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theoretically, there should only be a few chapters left. but yknow, this whole thing was meant to top out at maybe 2k so who knows what could happen 
> 
> also this one has Cas POV for the 2nd half
> 
> enjoy! :)  
> 

You almost go for another drive, but the Impala is outside and you left the keys inside somewhere and there’s no way you're going back to get them now. So you lie on top of it instead. There are a few stars out, twinkling their dim little lights, but most are hidden behind cloud cover. You wonder idly when the first snow of the season will fall. You still haven’t gotten Cas any of his own proper winter clothes yet. When he wants to talk to you again, you’ll suggest it. Next time you make a supply run into a bigger city than tiny Lebanon. If he talks to you again…

All of a sudden, you feel the position of the car acutely. Next to a yawning darkness, before the scrub starts. Next to the road.

The road Cas could take at any time, away from the bunker. Away from you.

You can’t stay on the hood of your baby anymore, despite its comforting familiarity. You can’t stand the reminder of Cas’ easy escape route outta dodge if things get that bad between you.

Cas went up on the hill when he was upset. Might as well give that a try…

There’s a stunted tree just over the crest of the hill that you sit among the roots of. Leaning back, you can see straight past the grotesquely twisted branches to the stars and threatening clouds. It’s peaceful here. You understand why Cas thought it was a good place to think.

It’s almost comfortable, protected in the protruding roots. More comfortable than sitting on the floor last night was. You feel a sad little smile pull at your lips. That was something lingering in the back of your mind all day.

What if you’d lain down next to him last night instead of sitting on the floor… Would he have burrowed into you, seeking warmth or comfort? 

Ha. Not fuckin’ likely. He probably would’ve freaked out, having someone in his bed with him. Especially if his behaviour tonight was anything to go by. No, it is best you didn’t try that at all. Things like that would never work out. You don’t deserve shit. You never have. 

You just want… you just want Cas. You just want him next to you. But what you want doesn’t matter. It can’t. It never has before, why should it now? You killed so many people… Most of them were dicks but… but some weren’t. None of them deserved what you did to them, but some especially… It was just the Mark, you can practically hear Cas and Sam’s voices in your head. It wasn’t you, you couldn’t help it. Like hell. They didn’t feel it. You wanted it. You wanted to feel their blood over your hands, hear their heartbeats stop. There is no way in heaven, hell or purgatory that you would ever have some kind of happiness. Not after everything you’ve done.

Absently you rub that spot on your arm. A habit you haven’t yet been able to shake. You wrap your hand around your forearm and squeeze, as though if you held on tight enough, you could just squash all the crap out. Of course that will never work, but it’s a comforting feeling nonetheless. 

You just want… Fuck, you just want to feel normal again. Because it’s dark and you're alone on a hill with the stars and you can admit at least to yourself that you want things, non-superficial things, not like pie and good TV. And you want Cas, his absence always an ache in your heart that you never quite understood but always felt. Most keenly after purgatory and post-fall. When he was dead, when you threw him out. When you could’ve kept him with you but screwed up. More than usual, that is.

You feel it now too, though you’ve seen him every day for over a month, spent most of your waking hours together for weeks. But then maybe that’s why. Because you’re so used to his company that when he isn’t there or doesn’t want to be there anymore, it’s like a knife in the gut. Which yes, you have experienced several times. It’s an accurate comparison.

You look back at the stars, more of them slowly disappearing as the clouds build further. The last thoughts you have before drifting into slumber are of Cas, a simple longing for his presence.

  
* * *  
  


You plod back to your room slowly after taking the pie. Dean… He is always so caring. He always checks on you. He makes sure you’re okay. Sometimes it’s just too much. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings but you couldn’t talk about it. There was no way you could tell him why you were acting the way you were. Of course you shouldn’t have any reason to be afraid. But you still are. You couldn’t spend any more time with Dean tonight. You couldn’t deal with the constant reminder that your time here might be running out, that these nights and TV and pie with Dean and Sam and Charlie might soon be abruptly cut off.

She told you to talk to Dean about it, but you can’t. Not yet. There’s still so much to do, so many memories you want to create with Dean, enough to last you when he makes you leave… You will put it off as long as you can, but what if Charlie accidentally says something? She means well but is very excitable. Something may slip out even if she doesn’t intend to. 

Your room is still very bare. You were planning to start collecting things to make it more your own, but you don’t know if there is much point anymore. Just in case he tells you to go like before, because he can’t deal with the awkward situation you have caused.

It is a good place to sit quietly and meditate, but that is not something you want to be doing right now. You don’t want to be alone with your thoughts, fears. Even if you manage to distract yourself from your recent predicament, every time you close your eyes, last night’s dream flashes behind your eyelids as vividly as it did in sleep. 

You slept better with Dean there, but it wasn’t peaceful. The figurative and literal demons that occupied your mind before still plagued it. Dean’s presence only served to lessen their pervasion. You wonder if it would have been better if he had lain down beside you, maybe held you in his arms… Of course he wouldn’t though. Why would he? That would be too personal, too intimate.

You sigh audibly. You have to distract yourself from these morose thoughts. The book you have been reading should work. But you left it in the library.

As you near the archway, you can hear Dean and Sam’s voices. And your name. They’re talking about you. They don’t hear you approaching, so you cough awkwardly and they both freeze. Definitely talking about you. Most likely wondering why you were acting so strangely before. Let them speculate. There is no way you will say anything about it. Too many pathways to questions, questions you would rather weren’t asked. At least not yet. Dean gives you what you assume is meant to be a reassuring smile that fails epically. After snatching the book, you mumble ‘good night’ and hurry back to the sanctuary of your room.

Charlie did suggest maybe not telling him outright, but to do something else, talk about stuff, not just watch TV all day. Perhaps you could suggest something to do, an idea of your own… But you have no clue what. You aren’t human, you still don’t understand what most people do in their spare time that could be fun. When you were human, you worked. And slept and ate. That was all… Maybe if you had had Dean as a teacher, or if you'd payed attention as an angel more, you would be different. Perhaps you shouldn’t still be bitter about that, but you are. If only you could’ve learnt to be human with Dean as a guide rather than muddling through on your own. Who knows what might have been different. Maybe you wouldn’t have had to suffer though those stolen graces. Perhaps you could still be human… What? Is that something you might want? No. No, you all spent so much time and energy searching for what remained of your own grace. And besides, without it, you have no way to protect Dean, or Sam. No way to make sure they are alright or in need of your help.

Even as the thought crosses your mind, you feel a tug on your grace. Not a prayer. No, this is a longing for you. You can always feel it, barely there, from your friend, but this is more insistent. Dean is actively thinking about you and wanting you there with him.

Maybe he wants to talk to you. Maybe he wants to talk about that. Maybe that’s what he and Sam were discussing when you interrupted them in the library, and Charlie has already let your secret slip. No, she wouldn’t give it away this early, you trust her that much. This must be something else.

You let the feeling simmer for a while, reading another few chapters, but it doesn’t leave. Then a faintly ill feeling settles in your gut. Something is wrong. Where is he? Wasn’t he just in the library? How could he be in trouble inside the bunker?

You leave the book open on the bed and make your way back to the library. A quick glance into the TV room confirms he hasn’t moved to there, but Sam is alone now.

“Where is Dean?” you ask urgently.

“He… he went outside a while ago. Why Cas? Is there something wrong?” You are already half way up the stairs by the time Sam starts to stand up. “Cas?!”

“I don’t know!” you growl. You throw the door open and see the impala still parked not far off after earlier. He’s still around somewhere. Have demons found this place? How? But what else could possibly be wrong? Curse the sigils you carved into his ribs all those years ago. Curse your inability to find him instantly. Curse your inability to protect him when he needs it.

As you step out of the door, you feel cold moisture settle on your skin and hair. Snow. The clouds have finally broken…

And Dean is out in the middle of it.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, comments and kudos are very welcome and appreciated. i love knowing if you guys like it :)
> 
> [ismylifejustfantasy](http://www.ismylifejustfantasy.tumblr.com) on tumblr


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow i am so sorry this took so long. mid sem exams were hell and lasted much longer than they should have but here we go :)
> 
> more cas pov carrying over from the last chapter
> 
> enjoy :)

Sam bumbles out after you, fear creasing his face. The snow is flurrying around you, an icy wind throwing it into the air.

“Shit,” Sam curses. “Dean!”

“Dean!” you echo. “Sam, how long has he been out here?”

“Since you got your book. Over an hour….”

Oh no. “Sam, you check down the road.” You turn to look up the hill you climbed last week. “I’ll check up there.”

It’s dark, which wouldn’t be a problem if snow wasn’t constantly trying to use your eyes as a conduit to the inside of your head. You stumble over the scrub, cutting your hands open on the dead sticks and rubble. The just perceptible pull on your grace grows stronger. You are getting closer. “Dean!” you shout. Nothing. You try again. And again. Not once is there even a whisper apart from the howling wind. 

You spot a stunted tree just over the top of the hill and stumble towards it. Maybe he sought shelter there. 

You can’t see anything to suggest he’d even been there when you first get close enough to pick out any details. Until you round the other side and stumble over a log. Except it isn’t a log at all. It’s Dean’s led, half buried in the snow. In fact, most of his body is half covered in snow, nestled between the tree’s roots. Oh God.

“Dean!” You crouch down next to him, shaking his shoulder gently. He doesn’t react. You thought it would be a relief to find him but you are still terrified. An angel of the Lord terrified because a man got caught in a snow storm. But Dean was never just a man. Even without being Heaven’s Righteous Soldier, he was never just some ordinary man to you. You shake him with more urgency now. Come on, Dean. Wake up. Please.

Finally, his eyes open, squinting blearily and he struggles to be slightly more upright. He’s shaking violently, face twisting in pain, and from your new proximity, you can see the sickly blue tinge his lips are taking. He doesn’t even have a jumper on.

You can yell at him for his idiocy later. Right now you just need to get him indoors. “Come on, Dean.” You grab his hand and help him stand.

“C---s…” he mumbles. 

“Yes, Dean. I’m here,” you reply gently. “Now, can you walk inside, or do you want me to carry you?”

Even in his state, Dean manages to look horrified at the suggestion and shakes his head definitely. “-‘m o-‘k…” He is leaning on you heavily though, and struggles to step over any of the scrub. After the third time he nearly pulls you over, you’ve had enough.  
“Oh for fuck’s sake Dean, just…” He stops, and you use his stunned silence at your cursing to sweep him up into your arms. He makes a feeble protest, but can’t help curling closer into your warmth.

You finally make it back to the road just as Sam is also returning.

“Oh my god, Dean,” he exclaims. “Is he…?”

“He is okay. He appears to have mild hypothermia, I think. We just need to warm him up.”

“Shit. Yeah.” He fumbles with the door while you huddle under the small eave and try not to think about the way Dean is clutching at your coat like his life depends on it.

 

“Charlie!” Sam shouts once they’re inside. “Could you grab us some blankets, right away?”

She plods out of the TV room, face screwed up against the dramatic difference in lighting. “What happ—” She notices Dean in your arms and stops. “I swear to God you guys. I don’t even get through two episodes of SG-1 before one of you makes a mess of something.”

Sam purses his lips. He knows she’s right. “Just… get the blankets,” he bites. “I’ll heat up some soup and Cas, just… try to get him warmer.”

That leaves you to carry Dean to his room. You tried warming him up as you were walking but it wasn’t working. Your Grace, while your own, is limited and temperamental. You set him down on the bed to pull the blankets around him, but he is still reluctant to relinquish his grip on your jacket. 

He mumbles, “C-zz… Nnn… c-old. D’n’t…” 

“Sh, Dean. It’s okay. We… we’ve just gotta get you warmed up…” It comes out sounding stunted, even to you. You aren’t any good at this comfort thing. Dean snorts weakly, because he knows too. You don’t try to say anything else, you just start to peel off the now-wet plaid over shirt, icy cold form the melting snow.

His t-shirt goes next. You are very close. You have to be, to be able to help him. And you should be used to it. You have always had personal space issues around the man, since you met him. But in light of everything over the last few weeks, this feels different. Tense. Dean is silent now, just watching you, his eyes never leaving your face. 

At that moment, Charlie walks in and exclaims, “Really guys?!”

You don’t know what her problem is, but she has the blankets, so that is good. You move to take off his jeans. The sooner the wet clothes are gone, the sooner you can wrap the blankets around him and try to get him warm.

“Okay! No!” she now yells, averting her eyes. “Not while I am in the room! Jesus Christ guys!” You look around, confused. Dean is also averting his eyes from both of you now. Charlie throws the blankets on the bed and leaves as abruptly as she entered.

From down the hall, you hear her, most likely telling Sam, “There are some things in life that I really, _really_ do not need to see. Okay? And my friend, stripping down the guy who is practically my brother, is _definitely_ one of those things.”

Dean is in his boxers now and that is enough. That is definitely enough. Sam walks in as you start to pull the quilt around his shoulders. “Hang on Cas, here.” Sam passes you a thick dressing gown. “Put this on him first. It’ll help.”

You struggle to manoeuvre the gown over his arms. Dean is becoming less and less responsive. He isn’t shaking as much, but he still tremors violently sometimes. His eyes flicker shut every so often. “Dean. Hey. Don’t sleep yet. You can’t go to sleep yet.” Together, you and Sam cover him in more blankets and settle him on the pillows.

Sam sniggers and pulls out his phone, taking a picture ‘for posterity.’ “He looks like an angry burrito. Can’t let him forget his stupidity any time soon,” Sam explains. Dean glares at him. Sam rolls his eyes tries to start feeding him some of the soup, but Dean shakes his head. He wants to do it himself.

He frees one of his hands but the moment Sam sighs and hands over the spoon, he drops it. His hand is shaking again, and though he tries, the spoon is empty before it even reaches his mouth. You take his hand to help stabilise it.

There is a pause. From past experiences with the brothers, you start to think it is awkward. Sam coughs, also awkwardly, to break the silence, and takes his leave. You aren’t sure if Dean’s expression is relieved or nervous. 

An easy moment of silence passes before you start to spoon the rest of the chicken(?) soup up to Dean’s mouth. He seems put out by the indignity of the situation, but bears it without complaint now that his brother is no longer in the room.

“This, Dean. This is why I worry about you.” Oh no, why did you start this now? Why did you bring this up again at all? He is furrowing his brow in confusion but you are frustrated. He just… he went out and… You need make him see… “You were fine in the car earlier. But… but this time. You were impulsive and stupid once again and this time you got hurt. Dean.” You shake your head. For all that you have every word of every language stored in your brain, when you need to explain yourself to the man before you, any skill at using any of them deserts you. 

His name is the only word you find yourself able to use in these moments. His name, and the nuances of tone you’ve learned over the last several years, almost a language of its own, one you aren’t even sure any other being can understand. Does anyone understand what you mean when you say it a certain way? That every time you whisper it just so, you are practically shouting. Shouting ‘I love you.’

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise the next one wont take so long! im aiming for 2 weeks now, cos end of semester is also suddenly almost here oops
> 
> i love hearing what you guys think, so please comment or leave kudos :)
> 
> my tumblr is [here](http://www.ismylifejustfantasy.tumblr.com)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woohoo! got it done in the time i said! yayyyy! anyway. enjoy :)

It’s cold. So fucking cold. You can’t really think properly, your brain just doesn’t want to. You can feel a warm body nearby though. Cas. It’s Cas. He found you. He… Whoa! He’s carrying you now. That’s weird and cool. He swore. Also weird. And cool. And really the opposite of cool. Mmm.

Next thing you know, a blast of warmth hits you. And it’s moving away. Cas is moving away. No. You can’t let him. You protest, but he still goes.

He says something to be comforting and fails. The only feeling in your arms is pain.

Then someone is pulling off your skin? No, that’s clothes. Right. Oh, and it’s getting warmer. Cas pulls a blanket around you. You feel sensation creeping back into your limbs now. Enough to notice the shaking. Enough to feel pain from the cold. Enough to be able to think about things apart from hurting.

Charlie yells something and you avoid looking at both her and Cas. You’re in your boxers now after all. Wait. Cas. He was taking off your clothes. Oh God. He’s seeing you in your boxers. Shit. Definitely avoiding eye contact now.

Sam comes and they force you into one of the nice dead-guy robes. Mmm. Warm. More blankets. That’s good. Yeah. Sleepy. You’re eyes kinda hurt, you just wanna sleep. Just close them. That would be nice. You tremble. It’s so cold. You don’t want to move. Comprehendible thought is fading again.

They try to feed you soup. No. That’s demeaning. You will do it yourself. Cas doesn’t think that’s a good idea. He lets you anyway. But you can’t. There’s nothing left on the spoon for shaking, and it’s not even near your mouth yet. Cas grabs your hand and steadies it so you can eat.

The warm liquid helps. You still shiver but it does help. Cas starts berating you. Why he worries. You feel guilty now. You hurt him. He whispers your name, like he always does, like a prayer. In that way you could never understand, how a heavenly creature could be saying your name with such faith, like you deserved it. 

“’m s-rry, C-s… I‘m…” You try to say. But even though you feel warmer, the connections between your brain and your mouth are still a bit slow.

Cas seems to understand. Good. That’s good. You didn’t want to hurt him. You hope he knows that. You hope he gets that.

Silence falls while Cas continues to spoon feed you. Ugh. Your mind wanders. Cas swore before. Damn. Unfortunately, you also haven’t regained any filter on what you say. When Cas replies, you realise you said that out loud. Heh. Oops. You also don’t really care. You’re sick. What the hell. Soup is warm. It’s nice. It makes you happy. Yeah

“It was kinda hot…” You chuckle. “Y—sh’d swear mo- ‘ften. Mm.” You close your eyes. It’s getting more and more difficult to keep them open now.

Cas stills beside you momentarily, and then puts the soup on the bedside. Huh.

“I think maybe you should get some sleep now Dean,” Cas says. “I’ll get Sam to watch you for a while.”

In your compromised state, you only picked up a few things from that sentence 1. Sleep. Yes, good. 2. Cas going? No. No no no. Not good. Cas…

You have to stop him from leaving you, no, don’t go Cas, don’t go.

You don’t know if any of that comes out of your mouth, but you do manage to grab a hold of his jacket sleeve, stopping him from going too far. You fix him with a pleading look, and mumble as best you can, “Stay.”

Cas nods jerkily and doesn’t move any further away. He does, however, pry your hand off his coat, but only so he can remove it. Now he’s only in jeans, a soft old t-shirt and one of your flannels. It’s a good look on him. He circles the bed and sits down next to you, where you’re burrowed into you cocoon.

“Okay.” He reclines on the pillows and moves a little closer, to provide you with more heat to warm up. “Go to sleep now, Dean.”

It’s nice. Your eyelids get heavier and you let them close. It isn’t long before you’re drifting into unconsciousness.

 

When you wake up in the morning, you feel sluggish. The first thing you register is the extra warmth beside you. Verging on too warm, considering all the extra blankets on top of you. Your face is squashed against something. The warm thing. It’s solid and… moving?

Oh god. You know that smell. That is Cas smell. You are sleeping next to Cas. Fuck, what happened last night? You’re only wearing boxers. Um… Wait, no. Of course not. That can’t be… No it was… Cold. You were so cold. And there was soup. And blankets. And you said… what did you...? Oh. Oh no. Shit. No. Not good, not good.

But… you were pretty out of it. Maybe he’ll just brush it off as sick-person babble. Yes. Hopefully. And if you pretend you don’t know what he’s talking about… Yes. Yes this will work.

In the meantime, you are nestled into the angel’s side, one arm slung over his stomach. Cas’ arm frames your back, holding you close. You aren’t afraid to admit to how nice it feels, but you are afraid of the feeling itself. Of how comfortable this is. Of how you don’t know how you’ll ever get to sleep again when you know how safe it is right here, right now, in Cas’ arms.

But you can’t. He’s your best friend and… you just can’t.

For now you can, though. For now you can have this.

You snuffle and shift minutely, to find a more comfortable position. Cas stirs, but only rolls closer in towards you, pulls you tighter to his side.

You drift off again, totally unaware of the presence of two people in the doorway, both wide-eyed, one with a phone camera pointing straight at you, recording the perfect blackmail footage for later use. You miss their proud fist bump, and most certainly don’t notice when they quietly retreat to some other corner of the bunker to burst into fits of giggles.

 

When you wake up again, it’s because of a sharp pain in your stomach. You’re starving. A quick glance at the clock tells you it’s almost midday. You haven’t eaten anything more than a few spoonfuls of soup in over 15 hours. You groan. You have to get food.

It is then that you notice the missing weight beside you. You sigh, sad you couldn’t wake up to him next to you one last time. 

You hear footsteps padding down the hall. But the pattern is familiar. Sam. And sure enough, moments later, the appallingly long hair appears around your doorway.

“Hey, Dean. How you feeling?”

You don’t bother responding, you just groan. You feel crap. And still cold. Every so often, your whole body trembles with it.

As you struggle to sit up and keep the blankets around you, Sam brings a tray of food over. More soup and some bread this time too. 

You thank him when he sets it down, but he keeps looking at you like he’s trying to decide if he should say something. It could be a few things, none of which you want to discuss right now, or ever, really. “Not now, Sammy. Please. I still feel shit. Can we just… not, right now? Please?”

Sam immediately steps back and nods. “Sure Dean. That’s fine. Um… If you need anything, just yell or something.”

“Or I could just… get it myself?”

“No way, man,” Sam protests. “You aren’t getting up today. Just stay in bed and stay warm.”

You want to argue, but he threatens to send Charlie down here to keep you there. You quit talking very abruptly after that.

Sam is about to leave you to it, when you blurt out, “Hey, you seen Cas this morning?”

He makes a face you can’t read, and then shrugs. “Sorry, dunno. I heard someone in the bathroom on my way past signing Greatest American Hero… Probably him. I don’t know if Charlie would even have heard of it so… Why?”

You roll one shoulder in a half-shrug and brush it off like it’s not important. Which it isn’t… Well, not for Sam anyway. Sam doesn’t need to know what happened earlier. Sam will not know what happened earlier. Not in this lifetime.

Sam leaves then, and you eat your food. Finally the hungry ache fades, and you feel empty and lonely.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, [Ishita](http://www.akadefenders.tumblr.com) for beta-ing and providing entertainment and keeping me awake while we both wrote fic :)
> 
> i thrive of comments, like actually, biggest most ridiculous grin on my face :) kudos are pretty hella too  
> or you can come send me an ask or say hi on my [tumblr](http://www.ismylifejustfantasy.tumblr.com) here :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yoooooo, long time no see sorry guys. been busy getting my dcbb up to scratch to submit, and writers block is a terrible thing. and in the holidays too. why does this always happen?
> 
> nearing the end now too, only a few chapters left after this :(
> 
> thank you all for all the kudos and comments. they never fail to make my day :)
> 
> enjoy!

After spending several hours alternating between staring at the wall and dozing, you decide you’ve had enough. You pull on fuzzy socks that had been left on the floor and wrap the dressing gown and a few blankets from the mountain you were buried under tightly around yourself. The moment your feet touch the floor, you start shivering.

It’s icy cold. Maybe you should just stay here for a little bit… Nah nah, go. Move. Can’t stay here. Food. What Sam brought you for breakfast has long since disappeared, and after weeks of overeating, it feels unnatural. As if to reinforce your point, your stomach gurgles loudly. Yep. Resolved, you shuffle your way down the hall, struggling on the few steps that lead down to the kitchen.

Blessedly, it’s empty when you get there. No Sam or Cas to tell you off for moving from the blanket cave they constructed for you.

You open the fridge and immediately start shivering. Cold. Too cold. No, not there, not again. Before you register moving, the door is slamming shut. To the cupboard then.

There are a few cans of soup strewn over the benchtop, three opened from before, but another – potato and leek, which ew, but also warm – is still sealed. It is more of a struggle than it should be to use the can opener to wrestle the tin open, but eventually it comes free and you dump the contents into the pot still on the stove.

You sit at the table while you wait for the soup to heat up and just barely catch yourself from falling asleep right there on your arms. It’s not particularly comfortable, leaning there like that, but stupid old man chairs with no backs are all you have down there at the moment.

Come to think of it, how did a bunch of old people manage to sit in these things? Wouldn’t it be bad for their arthritis or backs or something?

You suppose Henry wasn’t that old, but still, those chairs should be burned. 

They do let you “accidentally” swing a little closer to Cas without anyone noticing…

Maybe you _should_ say something. Maybe your sleep- and pain-addled mind was wrong earlier. You can try. You can. Maybe you’re addled and over confident now since you're defying Sam just by leaving your bed, but who cares. Make the most of it while it’s there.

Warm cup of soup in hand, you move away down the hall towards the TV room. Maybe Charlie’s getting him into Stargate or something.

But nope, he isn’t there. Neither of them are, for that matter.

When you step onto the fluffy rug in the middle of the room, you register just how cold your whole lower legs have been on the cold tile floors in the rest of the bunker.

Just as you wiggle your sock-covered feet deeper into the plush wool, someone enters the room.

“Hey, Deano, aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”

You spin quickly. Too quickly. Your nice hot soup almost goes all over your hands.

Charlie is leaning against the door frame.

“I feel fine, Charlie. I was bored. And hungry. Hypothermia ain’t s’posed to last this long anyway.”

“I think your feet beg to differ…” She glances down at where your feet are still burrowed into the carpet.

“Cos it’s friggin’ cold!” She raises her eyebrow. “And it’s friggin’ winter and we live in a friggin’ underground bunker with no central friggin’ heating!”

Charlie rolls her eyes. “Alright, Steve Rogers, sit down. I’ll get another blanket to warm up your poor feetsies.”

“Actually, that is to be expected. Victims of hypothermia often experience a much greater sensitivity to cold in their extremities for several days after their core body temperature has returned to normal.”

“Aha! See Charlie. I’m more sensitive. Boom.”

You finally make eye contact with Cas and your face softens, an involuntary smile pulling at your lips. “Hey Cas.”

Distantly, you hear Charlie, mutter, “Yeah, more sensitive alright.” Your face tightens but you otherwise ignore her.

“Hello Dean.” Cas smiles back, in that soft way of his which manages to warm you down to your core more effectively than any blankets or soup could. Even though you’re still dubious about his possible… feelings, at least you can always tell from these sorts of moments that he cares about you as a friend at the very least.

But the look soon fades into concern. “In spite of that, Dean, I do think you should remain in your room, or at least take it easy for the rest of the day. You had a strange day, yesterday. I believe you require rest, no matter if the symptoms of your hypothermia are lessened or gone or not.”

You flop heavily on the couch and frown petulantly. “Aw man, can’t we just watch some more Stargate or something. I promise I’ll just stay here. You can all wait on me from here instead of my room. Easier, even. It’s closer to the kitchen.” You raise your eyebrows and try to smile innocently.

Cas just rolls his eyes and sighs, making a face at Charlie like ‘Are you seeing this shit?’

Charlie makes a ‘yeah but what can you do?’ face in reply.

Stupid new besties and their stupid obvious silent conversations. “You know, I’m sick and you’re not saying anything, but I can _still hear you guys_.”

Now they both roll their eyes again and sit down simultaneously on either side of you. “Alright, here we go.” Charlie flicks on the TV with the remote next to her and scrolls through the menu back to the first episode. 

“Wait,” Cas interrupts.

Your gaze slides sideways to look at him. “What’s up, Cas?”

“I… just wanted to ask… Why do you love these shows so much?”

You blanch, and you can feel Charlie on your other side twist and lean forward to stare at Cas too.

“What do you mean? Like, Stargate particularly? Or Trek and Who and all of them?”

“All of them. I don’t… I don’t mean they are at all bad. I enjoy spending time with you and the stories and plots are very interesting. But I just wonder why?”

“Uhh… why do you ask, man?” you say, still confused.

“I am learning, but it takes time. I am curious about humanity, about you. I want to know you—” Softly, Charlie coughs and you know, you _know_ she said ‘biblically’ at the same time. “—but I can read only a few of the thoughts in your mind, and none of the feelings in your soul. I don’t understand but I want to. Asking, is, I find, the most effective method to achieve that end.” God it sounded so sweet to start with, and then right back to business. Typical Cas.

You chuckle self-consciously and rub the back of your neck. “Uh, well. I guess it’s… it’s a distraction.” You never thought to hard about it before. But there is a pattern. There is…

You turn to Charlie for help and she leaps right in, obviously having had to explain this to others in the past. “Our world is a piece of shit. It’s nice thinking about, imagining other worlds that aren’t as bad as ours, or where the heroes win, the bad guys die. Game of Thrones doesn’t count cos it’s awesome anyway.”

And now you know what to say. “It’s a way out. When everything goes to crap, you aren’t the one who has to deal with it. You don’t have to risk everything, you don’t have to worry that you’ll… you’ll lose the people you love cos you fucked up. Someone else does that. And you know they’re gonna win. It’s comforting having that security sometimes. In those worlds, the story goes right. Yeah shit happens to them too, people die, they get stuck in ice for seventy years, whatever. But it’s alright. Y’know, cos Bucky was waiting in the future for him, the doctor found Donna and Martha to be friends after Rose and they’re all okay. I just like seeing them end up okay…” God that was sappy. Jesus. Is that a tear in your eye? It better not be. Damn. And Cas is looking at you with sympathy, with empathy even. The little turn-downs at the corners of his eyes, and twitch at one corner of his mouth. He gets it. 

“I like that,” he says softly.

“Also space is pretty frackin’ cool,” Charlie adds, grinning from ear to ear.

You chuckle. “Yeah, space is fuckin’ awesome.” Cas laughs too, close-mouthed and shy, looking down at his hands.

Charlie nudges you hard enough that you almost fall onto Cas and spill the soup all over him. Luckily, his hand is right there, steadying your arm and the cup. “Let’s go you nerds.”

The theme music starts playing but Cas is still gripping your arm. And you aren’t pulling away. It’s warm. Why would you?

Eventually, he drops his hand though, and you turn back to the screen, but it doesn’t feel lost or empty. Just a thing that happens. He’s still there and somehow you know he’s gonna stay there. For a while at least.

 

After the episode finishes, Charlie and you both look expectantly at Cas, waiting for his conclusion.

“I think I understand now…” He smiles softly. “I like Teal'c.”

You nod. You understand that too.

He gestures at the TV now. “You continue. I will return shortly. Hannah texted me, I have to call her.”

“Wait, texted? What about your angel radio?”

“Like I said, it is temperamental. This is more efficient in case she tries to reach me when the servers are down.”

He stands up and shoots you a nervous smile. You let out a burst of surprised laughter before dissolving into amused chuckling. “Well done Cas,” you grin. “Mission successful.” You wink at him and he smiles proudly, before leaving the room.

 

After the next episode finishes, Cas bursts back into the room. From his urgency, you’re ready to leap into action with a gun or machete in your blanket and fuzzy socks, until he starts talking. “Dean, I had an idea as to how you can stay in your bed but still be entertained.”

“Um…” Intelligent. Wow. Also. What the fuck. Who says things like that??

Cas seems to remember himself because he freezes and stops talking suddenly, looking right at Charlie. Like he had forgotten she was in the room. “Uh. I can explain later though…” He immediately sits down and focuses his gaze unfalteringly on the TV, waiting. He is sitting bolt upright, rigid and uncomfortable.

You gape for a moment before turning back to the TV stiffly, perplexed. What does he want to say that can’t be said in front of Charlie? And most likely she will have picked up on it. And tell Sam. Crap, you’d better prepare yourself for a grilling later.

Cas is fidgeting. He keeps glancing sideways at you and looking away and back again and fiddling with his sleeves and opening and closing his mouth.

“Cas what the hell man? What’s up?”

His eyes flick up to yours then away. “Nothing. It is fine.” After that, he relaxes and settles in to watch more TV.

 

Later that night, when you are comfortably full with food and rugged up in your blanket mountain, you wonder what the hell was with Cas earlier. He never did end up explaining himself… Why was he uncomfortable saying whatever it was in front of Charlie?

There’s a knock on his door. Ah, speak of the devil… or angel… and he shall appear. Cas tentatively pokes his head around the door.

“Dean? Are you awake?”

“Yeah, hey man.” You push yourself into a more upright position. “Wanna explain to me what the hell that was earlier?”

“Yes. That is why I am here, actually.”

He doesn’t continue, so you prompt him. “Well?”

He steps further into the room and looks at his feet, fiddling with his sleeves. “You said earlier that… that the shows and movies were a way for you to escape. What if I could… what if I could take you there?”

What? Wait. Yeah, still what? “Uh…” Your eyebrows crease. “What’re you talking about man?”

“I can’t… I can’t fly you there, I don’t have the strength anymore. But I remember it. I could show you.”

“Show me… space?” You still sound incredulous. You still are. What the actual fuck?

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Do you recall when I would visit you in your dreams, Dean?”

“Uh… yeah? What, you gonna project something into my dream?”

“Something like that. More accurately, you would be sharing my dream. It will be easier for me, use less strength, if I am also unconscious.”

You nod. Makes sense. Meanwhile, Cas shifts, waiting. “Oh, you mean like, now?”

“If you would like…”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah that’s. Cool.” You wriggle around on the bed until there is enough space for Cas to lie down next to you. Maybe last night wasn’t the only night…

Cas lays down stiffly and takes your hand. “So it’s easier…” he explains.

It should be weird. Okay yeah, it’s a bit weird. Cas is so tense. “Just chill dude. Relax. You won’t get to sleep otherwise.”

You hear the pillows rustle as he nods, and you close your eyes. For once, you fall asleep in a matter of minutes.

 

“God they’re both so awkward. This is painful, Sam. Physically painful!”

“Well, they’re sharing a bed now… It’s progress. I think.”

Sam shrugs and agrees. They sneak back down the hall and high-five.

Nerds.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr is [here](http://www.ismylifejustfantasy.tumblr.com), come say hi :)
> 
> any and all feedback is always appreciated :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo this is superduper exciting!!! hope you enjoy!!!  
> thanks all for reading and leaving comments and kudos, they really make my day :)

“Holy shit! Cas! Get us down!”

“You won’t be hurt if you fall, Dean. It is only a dream.” You cling tightly to Cas’ upper arm, any sense of pride gone with your stomach when you look straight down the several hundred foot drop to a glacier

“People can die in dreams, man.” He looks confused. “Ok, we are watchin’ Inception next. You need to learn that shit if you’re gonna be flying us around in them.”

“I understand your fondness for films leads to many views of the world and reality, but Dean, I have done this sort of thing before. You will not die in this dream. I won’t let you.”

Oh. Well. Okay. Who cares if he’s done this before. Probably loads of people he’s done this for. ‘Course there would be. What would make you so—

“Dean. Stop thinking.”

“I… I wasn’t… it was…”

“I have done this for many people in the past. But I was always removed from it. It was just to give them some reprieve from nightmares, such as Caesar on the eve of a battle. Joan of Arc as well, though she knew I was there anyway. I have done it for you several times.”

“I never knew you were there.” You really shouldn’t sound this petulant.

Cas sighs. “I was particularly careful with you. I just wanted you to… be free.” He looks down and shuffles his feet.

You can’t find anything to say to that, and yep, there’s the guilt too, for making Cas feel bad or uncomfortable or whatever it is. You can’t really look at him long enough to figure it out, you’re too busy eyeing off the friggin’ cliff edge not two steps away. Eventually you mumble, “Thanks, Cas.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see the little flicker of a smile pull at his lips. A movement which you unconsciously mirror.

“You’re welcome, Dean.”

It is several more minutes before you manage to look away from the precipice towards the view Cas has been focused on. When it finally comes into clear view, you gasp. “Shit, Cas.”

It’s a city. It sprawls for miles in both directions on the other side of the crevasse. Some of the buildings even seem to defy physics, hanging from the sheer cliff face. And the actual buildings, well they aren’t exactly like he pictured space would be like, not all the glass and steel and electrics, but awesome nonetheless. And eerily beautiful. They sort of blend in with the icy landscape, obviously not natural, but complement it as well.

It’s too far away to see more than the broad details from this distance, even when you squint. “Can we get any closer?”

You feel Cas’ grip tighten around your hand and whoa when did that get there?

But then you’re not looking at the city from miles away but rather from its very doorstep. And now you can see everything. The weird shapes in the carvings and architecture, the strange wares for sale from even stranger vendors in little booths lining the streets. It’s bustling with activity and you don’t know where to start.

 

You start wandering eventually, pulling Cas along. When you see something awesome, he smiles indulgently. When you find something curious, he answers your questions. When you pick up a little trinket that could hang on a necklace or maybe fit over someone’s finger, he blushes deeply before explaining that it’s a common talisman given to someone when they want to court.

You feel your face burning too, but mentally file away the design. For reference… later… maybe…

You both wander around for what feels like hours, though you have no idea how the time is passing in the real world. Dreams are weird like that. Eventually, you suggest getting something to eat.

Cas’ face falls. “I’m sorry Dean, I never ate any food here. I don’t know what it would taste like.”

You shrug. It’s okay, you suppose. Alien food would be cool to try, but whatever.

“Also, I believe your human stomach is not designed to digest foods such as they eat here. It would give you an unpleasant stomach ache, even in the dream.”

“Ah.” Yeah. Best not then…

You keep wandering, your hand no longer in his, until you reach the other side of the city. Spread out before you are more icy plains, thin shadows the only hint of yet more valleys and harsh crevasses almost invisible in the flat landscape.

You sit on some nearby rocks and Cas says he will release the dream so you both wake up naturally. The two of you sit side by side, reminiscent of many years ago on a park bench on November 1st, watching at the lines in the snow start to blur and fade, until you are swallowed up by the darkness. Before it disappears entirely, you whisper to the void, unsure if he can even still hear you, “Thanks Cas.”

 

You blink awake in more darkness, and are at first confused. But then you register that it is just early enough that Sam hasn’t been by to turn on the hall lights yet. A glance at your clock reveals the time to be 4:37 am. You flop back onto the bed and sigh. Too early to be dealing with… whatever that was.

Beside you, a shape moves and then Cas mutters from a tiny gap in the blankets, “Dean.”

“Yeah buddy?” you whisper back.

“You are thinking very loud. Please stop and go back to sleep.”

You huff a laugh and snuggle back under the covers. Don’t hate, blankets are _made_ for snuggling. You’re barely settled when an arm is suddenly slung around your waist and you feel warm breath against your neck.

Okay then.

Your lips twitch in a tiny smile and maybe Cas can hear the happiness, the contentment in your thoughts, but honestly at this stage, you are pretty much beyond caring.

You close your eyes and soon enough are fast asleep once again.

 

The two of you slip into another routine after that night. You’ll eat dinner and watch more TV or read a book, and then eventually you both end up in pyjamas in your room, under most of the blankets you used with the hypothermia thing, as the nights get increasingly and swiftly colder.

In your dreams, Cas takes you to worlds far beyond the reach or even imagination of man. One night before sleep, he asks if you’d like to see a planet made of diamond. You freeze and just shake your head slowly. He smirks and you fall asleep vaguely terrified. It turns out the diamond planet isn’t on the agenda for tonight. _Thank god_. But down a side street, you’re pretty sure you catch a glimpse of police box blue. You know it couldn’t be real, but you can’t keep the derpy little smile off your face for a long while after. Bless Cas and his newfound nerdiness.

 

You haven’t woken up with Cas so close since the first time you did… whatever this is. But it’s some unspeakably early hour on a Thursday morning and you can’t feel your arm. It has been squashed against your body for the past however long by Cas, who is pressed right against your side. You try to wiggle it free but to no avail. Cas just rolls closer, tightens his arm over your stomach.

You grunt. “Cas. Cas, you gotta move.” Again, he snuffles but ignores your plight. “Cas, seriously, get…” With difficulty, you unlock his arm and free yourself a little, put it’s still stuck.

With all the jostling, Cas finally wakes up properly. “What…”

“You gotta move, man,” you insist once more, face twisted in a grimace from the eerie lack of feeling in your fingertips.

“Oh. Oh!” Cas startles upright and away to the other side of the bed, deliberately avoiding eye contact. “I’m sorry, Dean, I didn’t mean to presume… I apologise, I should not have…” 

As he rambles, you rub the sleep from your eyes with one hand while you shake the other, trying to rid it of the pins and needle from the sudden blood rush. “What? No man, my arm was stuck, I just wanted to get it out…”

Cas pauses and finally looks at you. Something like… hope? plays across his face. That can’t be right. He’s getting better at disguising emotions, you used to be able to read him so well… “So… you didn’t mind that I was sleeping… so close?”

And there goes spit down your windpipe. You choke and cough and splutter for a good minute before you can manage a reply. “That’s not… I didn’t mean… I mean I… Um…”

Cas squints at you. The look on his face falling just marginally. “Dean?”

Take something for yourself, Charlie said. You can. Small steps. Yeah. You grit your teeth, metaphorically – you’re still trying to figure out how to breathe again – and say, “I’m fine. Uh, yeah… I-I don’t mind. It’s cool, just, if you want to, that is…”

And there’s no mistaking the pleased expression that light up his features now. Huh…

To diffuse whatever it is that’s now crackling between you, you hold the blanket up beside you. “Cuddle up then.”

He arranges himself at your side once more, while you keep your arm strategically out of the way. He inhales deeply and that’s the last thing you remember before sinking back into your dreams.

 

You’re sitting by the edge of a lake, fishing. You haven’t had this dream in a while, but it’s nice. You recall the time Cas showed up in it years ago and all of a sudden, the calm vibes fade and all that hurt that followed comes flooding back.

You scrub a hand down your face and try to push those thoughts away when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

Cas.

What’s Cas doing in the dream again? Did he follow you into it? Is this the actual Cas?

His hand drifts down to yours and there’s the feeling of a chink of cold metal against your skin. You glance down. He’s wearing a… wedding ring?! Well. It is _definitely_ not the real Cas, then. You’ve never had this version of this dream before, but there’s a first time for everything, right? It’s not like there’s any other possibility. There is absolutely no way Cas would be wearing a wedding ring in his own dream. What the fuck?

“Hello Dean.” He smiles and sits down beside you, bare feet dangling over the edge of the jetty, not quite touching the water.

You sit there together in companionable silence for a while, enjoying the serenity. You don’t notice at first how the clouds gather on the horizon. The water tinges red with the sunset at first. But it doesn’t stop. It gets redder, darker. It turns sluggish, more viscous.

It’s… blood?!

Beside you, Cas stiffens and grips your hand tighter. “Cas, what the fuck is going on?”

“Dean?! You’re—Never mind, just.” He stands up, expression turning fearful. No. Terrified. With urgency, he pulls you upright. “You have to wake up, Dean! Wake up now!”

“Cas… What…?”

“Dean please!” He’s shaking you now, urging you to go. Why? What the hell is this?

The water is lapping higher now, licking at the top of the jetty. It’s not red anymore. It’s totally black. Black sludge. Leviathan. Shit, it’s creeping out, reaching for you both. It snakes a tendril around your foot and starts tugging you backwards into the lake. The lake which is not the lake anymore, it’s the reservoir. The one that still haunts you, that you still see Cas disappearing into on the backs of your eyelids after particularly difficult nights.

“No!” You look up from your foot to Cas and… are those tears? 

And he’s glowing, light growing until it’s blinding, burning your retinas. “Close your eyes Dean!” comes a shout.

The light fades and you’re in a room. A room that you can’t see the edges of, it’s just white as far as you can see. The lake is gone, along with the sludge around your ankle. And Cas is there in front of you.

Naomi behind him, whispering in his ear. Angel blade in hand. The word no being whispered over and over, a mantra. Beyond them, you see bodies strewing the ground. The same body. Your body.

“Do it, Castiel. Look at your progress. You can.”

“No no no…”

“Kill him.”

“Cas…” You draw his name out, trying to make him focus, and almost a warning.

“Do it.”

“No. No no no…” His voice reaches a crescendo, a final guttural cry, before he plunges the blade into your chest.

You blink and you’re staring down at your own bloodied face, tablet abandoned on the floor, trenchcoat sleeve fluttering around your wrist. Involuntarily, your fist flies towards dream-you’s face. And again. And again.

Then it’s Cas’ face and you hesitate. He mumbles around the blood in his mouth. “Please Dean, wake up. Please. I don’t want… You shouldn’t have to…”

Your fist flies again but meets nothing. You overbalance and then you’re falling. Falling fast. You can’t see the earth, you just fall. You’re burning up. You hear screams all around. Other voices amongst your own. Under it all, a pleading voice rings out, the same words over and over. “Please. Dean wake up. Wake up. Wake up.”

From there, it’s just flashes. Pain in your head like nails are being driven into it.

Turning away from the Braeden’s backyard, saying yes to Crowley.

Purgatory, by the stream, you watch yourself and Cas embrace, but Cas is trembling, crying, and then a leviathan plunges a knife between your shoulder blades.

You with demon eyes.

Cas as God, hurting you.

“Wake up Dean!”

And finally, you do.

 

Your eyes split open, cracking in the corners where grit is caked on. You’re panting, heart racing, shadows of burning flesh, and pressure points in your brain tearing you apart.

You lie there prone for several minutes, trying to regain control of your breathing. You shudder and let your eyes slip closed again until you calm down enough to think.

What the fuck was that? You have _never_ had dreams like that before. That was all… that was mostly Cas’ perspective. Things Cas did. Was that… were they Cas’ nightmares?!

Fucking hell. It’s any wonder the guy wakes up screaming in the middle of the night sometimes.

He isn’t screaming now though. More aware of the rest of the world around you now, you feel Cas shaking against you, his fingers twitching where they’re curled tight enough into your sleep shirt to tear it. Occasionally a quiet sob escapes him.

“Cas?” You shake his shoulder. “Cas, come on buddy.” He sniffles quietly but doesn’t wake up. You roll over slightly so you’re both on your sides, faces separated by mere inches. “Come on man, wake up. It’s just a dream. Just a dream. You’re safe, just wake up.”

Cas wakes with a gasp, scrambling away from you and reaching under the pillow for a knife that isn’t there. 

“Hey. Hey hey hey. Cas.” You hold your hands up like you would to a frightened animal. “It’s okay.”

“NO. No it’s not. You have to wake up Dean.” He still thinks he’s dreaming. Shit. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t. I don’t…” Tears are welling up in his eyes.

You have to show him it’s not a dream. Show him he’s okay.

“Okay. It’s alright. I’m just gonna go over there,” you say slowly as you shift across the bed towards him. He cowers back but doesn’t go any further. He’s still fumbling under the pillow. You get close enough to put your hands on the sides of his face and his litany of pleas quiets to just pained gasping.

“Cas. You’re not dreaming. We’re awake. It’s okay.” He still shakes his head and you’ve run out of ideas.

Well.

There is one thing you could do. You thought originally it was your dream, but if it wasn’t… It might not work… Probably won’t work… But it might.

It’s all you can really think of anyway.

Cas’ eyes close, like he’s waiting for the dream to turn sour and doesn’t want to see it happen.

You lean in closer and closer. So much for small steps. You feel his shaky breath on your face. Then your lips touch.

You don’t really know what you’re doing so you just stay there, keeping the kiss to a gentle press, a comforting warmth. Surprisingly, you aren’t freaking out yet. That’ll probably come later.

You feel as Cas’ trembling eases and breathing begins to return to normal. You take that as your cue that he’s waking up properly now and pull away slowly. You can almost imagine he chases you briefly at the loss.

Then he freezes.

You blink your eyes open to find his staring right back at you, wide and darting back and forth between yours, searching for some explanation. “Dean?”

You courageously decided to totally ignore what you are pretty sure he’s asking you and go with, “You were having a nightmare.” He nods a little uncertainly and you know that’s not what he meant. But you just hold your arm open and let him crawl under it and be comforted as the last shadows of the nightmares leave him.

After a long while, he takes a deep breath and asks, “Before, you um… kissed me?”

You sit back abruptly and scratch at the back of your neck. “Yeah, uh… You weren’t… you weren’t waking up, I…” Cas squints. “I couldn’t think of what else to do so…”

He nods, and after a few more moments of silence, continues, “But… you… wanted to?”

This is it. You knew it would happen eventually. Frankly, you’re surprised it held together this long, that you still got to have… whatever it was, with him. Enough. It is _enough_.

You gulp down the lump in your throat and mutter, “Yeah…”

You move to pull away further, ready for the inevitable disgust, and he lets you go. But not too far. What now? Does he want to prolong the pain or something?

“Dean…”

You sigh. “What, Cas?” Isn’t bad enough, all this shit, already. Why does he have to make it worse?

“I don’t think I’m fully awake yet…”

“I—what?” You frown.

“I think you need to… to wake me up more… If you want to…” You watch as his eyes flick quickly to you lips.

All your body can figure to do is blink down at the other man. You are helpless to stop the hopeful smile twitching your mouth up.

Cas must correctly read it as a yes because whoa, suddenly he’s surging towards you, a hand on the back of your neck pulling you down to meet him in the middle and your mouths are touching again, this time moving against each other, simple presses between short gasping breaths.

You pull back eventually to get actual oxygen into your system and holy shit you were kissing Cas. Cas was kissing you and you were kissing him and you brain is totally short-circuiting right now. You’re just… what… 

Cas’ tongue flicks out to wet his lips and your eyes are drawn immediately to the motion, mesmerised. 

“Cas, we should ah... talk, probably…” You really don’t want to.

“Yes… probably…” But he doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring at you in that familiarly intense way of his. His hair is mussed and sticking out where it’s pressed against the bed. His lips are glistening and just a bit swollen and turned up in a soft smile. His hand draws soothing patterns in the hair at the nape of your neck. It hits you then, just what a miracle it is for this to even be possible. After all the Hell and Heaven and angel wars, Leviathan, crazy, purgatory, more angels, brainwashing, dying, human, Mark of Cain, demon crap, you’re both safe and lying in bed on a lazy Thursday morning. All that is behind you, relegated to nightmares. Terrifying, vivid, sleep-depriving nightmares. But still, just nightmares. And Cas has been with you almost every step of the way since he crash-landed on the roof of that damn barn. It’s all just too much.

“I think I love you.” Whoa whoa whoa. That was not the plan. It’s completely true, no thinking required. But that was…

Cas doesn’t get surprised. He just doesn’t. Never for a good thing anyway. On the very rare occasion that he does, he doesn’t react like normal people. He just stares at you harder, inhales loud and deep. It’s endearing. And he isn’t running away. He isn’t pushing you back and saying, ‘it’s not really like that.’ No he just… stares at you more. Until with every ounce of fervour he ever possessed, he says, “I know.”

What. Your forehead furrows in confusion until… oh. Oh god. He… he did the… You huff a single stunned laugh and he’s smiling. Full-on gummy toothpaste commercial grinning.

“I can’t believe you Han Solo-d me,” you mutter incredulously.

He shrugs and he’s just so adorable – and yeah, you’re allowed to think that now – that you lean down into another kiss.

Cas doesn’t let it go too far though. He pulls away with seriousness creeping back into his features. “You know I love you too, Dean. I didn’t mean to brush what you said off…”

“Yeah Cas, I got it,” you whisper back with a reassuring smile. God you’ve been smiling a lot in the past few minutes.

Cas nods, satisfied, and draws you back down to him.

So maybe it worked out after all.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
> 
> anyway yeah. im excited. they FINALLY GOT THERE YES.
> 
> also i realised as i wrote it, this is the second last chapter! just one more omg i cant believe
> 
> No one will ever convince me that that bigass noise before Cas turned up in 4x01 wasnt him crash landing on the roof.
> 
> tell me what you liked or fav lines. whatever. i love hearing back :)
> 
> as always: a million thanks to [ishita](http://www.akadefenders.tumblr.com) for being the bestest beta ever.  
> and also my tumblr is [here](http://www.ismylifejustfantasy.tumblr.com)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is it guys! final chapter, a year to the day since the first one posted. wow. its been such a journey, until a few weeks ago it was the longest piece i had ever done (since surpassed by my big bang which is what delayed this chapter from being done a lot sooner. yall can check it out [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5321012/chapters/12285002) btw if you want :) )
> 
> thank you all so much for your support and all the comments and kudos
> 
> an extra special thank you to [ishita](http://www.akadefenders.tumblr.com) and [alex](http://www.there-be-monsters-here.tumblr.com) for all their support and betaing. this would never have been done, nor be nearly as good without you guys, so thanks :)
> 
> anyway, enough rambling. enjoy! :)

You walk into breakfast the next morning hand in hand. You stand close, making toast and coffee with your arms brushing. Cas barely says anything, as usual, before he’s downed a whole cup.

You can feel both Sam and Charlie’s eyes burning holes in the back of your head but you choose not to acknowledge them.

It’s a whole five minutes of awkward silence, which you actively ignore, before Sam starts talking again. It’s stilted and Dean internally sniggers.

Cas finishes first and says he’s going to shower, but he hovers, looking uncomfortable and a little nervous, like he’s unsure of something. You realise he’s probably not sure if you’re okay with being affectionate around your brother. Just as he looks like he’s about to stand up, you pull him down for a quick press of lips.

When you let Cas go, he has a soft smile that just lights up his face.

After he leaves, you focus on eating and ignoring the other two opposite you even more pointedly than before. 

You almost finish another piece of toast before Sam finally says, “Dean, uh… there something you want to tell us?”

“Uhh… heh… well…” What do you even say? They were right? Ha, that’s not gonna happen. “Me and Cas are… me’n’Cas now…” You grin almost shyly.

“When...?”

“How…?”

“We did the same thing last night as we’ve been doing for a week, except this time midnight making-out was also involved.” You don’t want to mention the nightmares that led to it, or the dream-ring that gave you the confidence to try it. Honestly, that detail still freaks you out a bit. Maybe it was just Cas’ subconscious over-compensating for your lack of relationship, but maybe it’s something he really does want… But you can figure that out later. For now, you’re just glad both you and Cas have gotten through the past seven years of shit from the world and yourselves to reach this point.

“And that’s it? You just… started macking and…”

“What else do you want me to say?! Yes. Me and Cas got over out crap and we’re a ‘thing’ or whatever, I guess. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got somewhere else to be.” You stand and make to leave, only to be stopped by a small body colliding with you and throwing her arms around your middle. 

Your brother stands too and claps you on the shoulder, smiling. “I’m happy for you, Dean. For both of you.”

“Thanks Sammy.”

* * * * *

“Sam.”

“Yeah…”

“Sam…”

“Yeah.”

“Holy ship sailing batman…” She turns to Sam and holds up a hand and he takes the offer of a high-five. 

Both are wearing a self-satisfied smirk as they go back to their food.

* * * * *

You feel like, with all your history, that some sort of discussion should be had about what will happen between you now, but that’s not what happens. You had planned to, really, but when Cas gets out of his shower, you just blurt, “I just want to… I just want to take it easy. No expectations, no defined endgame. I just want to be with you and I want to see what happens. That dream when you were… with the ring, I…” You break off, not quite sure how to continue.

“Oh! Dean, of course. I never meant… I am very happy, more than happy, to do that too. That detail never crossed my mind consciously, it is not something require, or even desire at this point. Not that I’m discounting it entirely as an option at some point in the future, but, but right now, I just want you too. Just you. We can make it up as we go.” A tiny smile pulls at Cas’ mouth and you grin in spite of yourself.

You pull Cas in for a crushing kiss, almost bruising, that leaves you both gasping for breath, your hands buried in Cas’ hair and Cas’ tight between your shoulders.

You let your hands drop to his waist while his inch up to cup your face. It gives him the perfect leverage to pull you back for another kiss, though this time much more gentle, though no less passionate. It leaves you feeling raw when you pull back and drop your head to his shoulder, breathing in the scent of your own soap on his skin. He holds tight to your shirt like he never wants to let go.

“Hey Cas,” you murmur against his neck. “D’you reckon we could watch some Westerns now?”

“Of course, Dean,” Cas smiles knowingly and makes his way to the kitchen for popcorn and liquorice.

Just as you’re settling in, bowl of popcorn on your lap, to wait for the opening crap to finish, Sam appears in the doorway. He hasn’t even stopped moving before he says, “So get this…”

“No.”

“But—”

“Can it Sam, we’re watching Westerns.”

Sam blinks once, then shares a very obvious conspiratorial smirk with Charlie, who just walked in behind him. “Watcha starting with? Brokeback Mountain?”

And you almost bite out a scoffed ‘no’, but fuck it. Things are changing. Ambiguity is a good way to start. 

“Not a western, Sammy.”

And at exactly the same time, Cas says, “We have already covered that in great detail,” with his perfectly dead-pan expression. They can’t see what you can though; a tiny little curl up at the corner of his mouth.

Sam gags a little and yells, “Dude! It’s not even been a day yet!” while Charlie screeches, “Cas, you’re my friend, but too much information!”

You chuckle and pull Cas in close to you, pressing a brief kiss to his temple.

Sam shudders and swiftly continues talking. “Right. Well. Moving on before I go bleach my brain - _seriously_ , Cas?? – I’m gonna go check it out. Charlie said she’ll come with—”

“You’re my friends and I’m happy for you, but I do not want to be here for the next week,” Charlie interjects.

“—and you guys can… do whatever it is that you do.”

“Oh, we’ll be _doing_ , alright,” you grin.

Sam takes a breath to retort but purses his lips instead.

“And we’ll check in on that thing in Pontiac, with your grace, Cas,” Charlie adds.

Cas swivels around so he can see Charlie. “That won’t be necessary.”

Every pair of eyes in the room turns to look at him in shock.

“What do you mean, not necessary?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Cas…” You’re shaking your head. Because you know exactly what he means, what he plans. Cas turns back to face you. “I know what I want, Dean. It isn’t some possible residual grace half way across the country.”

“But…”

Cas leans in a presses his lips to yours in a brief, reassuring kiss, one hand gently cupping your jaw. “This is my decision, Dean.”

You look like you’re going to protest again but you decide against it. He’s right, it is up to him. You don’t like it but you’ll accept it. You look away. “Okay.”

He’s batcrap insane for wanting to stay with you forever, but shit if it doesn’t put a little thrill through you.

“I love you, Cas.”

You feel his jaw twitch in a smile against your chest. “I love you too, Dean.”

You press play.

  



End file.
